The Admissions Game

History and Structure of Selective Admissions

Folks are not privy to the inner workings of admissions, especially at elite and brand name schools.  The College Admissions Scandal (aka Varsity Blues) gave us a small window into this structure, but that story will soon be forgotten. And it only touched the surface of how the system works for some and not for others.   

What little the public has access about selective admissions can be found in a few historical and sociological sources, like Craig Steven Wilder's Ebony and Ivy: Race, Slavery, and the Troubled History of America's Universities and William Domhoff's Who Rules America?: The Corporate Rich, White Nationalist Republicans, and Inclusionary Democrats in the 2020s. Books that are not best sellers or readily available in public libraries. 

The 400 year history of American higher education begins with selective admissions. From the 1600s to the 1860s, access was largely restricted to white, Anglo-Saxon Protestant male landowners, reflecting the societal norms of the time. A few Native American elites were forced into universities as tools of assimilation, colonization, and cultural erasure.

There were some notable exceptions. Georgetown, a Catholic college, was founded in 1789, and like other schools relied on enslaved people for labor.  For others, there were for-profit trade schools for bookkeeping, engineering and technical drawing. In 1836, the first women's college, Wesleyan College, was founded. 

Higher Education Segregation and the Morrill (Land-Grant Colleges) Act

In the 19th century, as the United States industrialized and urbanized, the concept of meritocracy began to take hold. However, this meritocracy was often defined narrowly, excluding women, people of color, religious minorities, and those from lower socioeconomic classes.

 

Elite colleges continued to favor students from wealthy families, often requiring them to pass entrance exams that tested knowledge of Latin and Greek, subjects typically studied at private preparatory schools. 

 

Separate colleges for African Americans were established. 

 

After the Civil War, opportunities opened up for other white males with the emergence of federal land grants that established state flagship universities. The state universities, were in fact, established on land stolen from indigenous nations. 

 

With a demand for more folks with degrees, degree mills also rose. 

The GI Bill and Civil Rights

The 20th century saw some progress in expanding access to higher education. The GI Bill, for example, provided educational benefits to male veterans, including many from marginalized backgrounds. However, systemic racism and sexism continued to limit opportunities for Black students and women. 

 

Diploma mills again sprang up, in response to this large influx of government funds.

 

It wasn't until the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s that significant strides were made in desegregating higher education. And the first tribal college, Diné College, was established in 1968 by the Navajo Nation. 

Affirmative Action and DEI

Today, while elite colleges have become more diverse, they remain elite in nature, especially in terms of social class (wealth, power, prestige). The private school pipeline, legacy admissions, active recruiting, and the financial motivations of these institutions continue to perpetuate inequalities. Students from under-resourced schools and communities may still face significant barriers to admission, even with impressive academic records.

The admissions process at elite colleges and universities has become increasingly scrutinized in recent years. Critics argue that the system favors a select group of students, often from privileged backgrounds, while excluding others with equally impressive credentials. 

Feeder Schools: The Private School Pipeline

Private schools provide students with a distinct advantage in the college admissions process. These schools offer smaller class sizes, specialized resources, and extracurricular opportunities that can enhance a student's application. Private schools also have established relationships with admissions officers at top colleges, which can give their students an edge. This pipeline effectively funnels a disproportionate number of students from wealthy families into elite institutions.

Legacy Admissions

Legacy admissions, which give preference to applicants whose parents or grandparents attended the same college, further perpetuate the advantages of wealth and privilege. Studies have shown that legacy students are significantly more likely to be admitted to top schools, even when compared to non-legacy applicants with higher test scores and GPAs. This practice raises questions about meritocracy and equal opportunity in higher education.

Active Recruiting

Elite colleges engage in extensive recruiting efforts to attract top students. They often target high-achieving students at selective high schools and even travel internationally to scout talent. While this practice may seem beneficial, it can also reinforce existing inequalities. Students from under-resourced schools and communities may not have the same access to information and opportunities, making it difficult for them to compete in the admissions process.

International Students

Elite universities often attract students from developing countries who pay substantial tuition fees, contributing significantly to the universities' financial stability. Critics argue that this practice exploits the global education gap, as students from wealthier countries often have better access to quality higher education within their own nations. Additionally, the "brain drain" phenomenon, where talented individuals from developing countries migrate to developed nations for education and employment, can further exacerbate economic disparities. While universities may tout the benefits of cultural exchange and global citizenship, the economic incentives and power dynamics involved in international student recruitment raise concerns about the ethical implications of this practice.

The Profit Motive

It is important to acknowledge that elite colleges are businesses. They generate significant revenue from tuition, endowments, and other sources. Admissions practices, such as legacy preferences and active recruiting, can be seen as strategies to attract wealthy students who can contribute to the institution's financial bottom line. This raises concerns about whether the primary goal of these colleges is to provide a quality education or to maximize profits.  

 

Many elite schools, including Harvard and MIT, have also used online program managers like 2U to peddle certificates of questionable value. 

The Admissions Lottery 

While a "lottery mindset" isn't directly beneficial to elite universities in terms of increasing applications, it can indirectly impact the perception of the admissions process. As more and more qualified students apply to these institutions, the acceptance rate decreases, making it feel like a lottery. This perception can lead to several outcomes:

 
Increased Application Volume: Students may feel compelled to apply to a wider range of schools, including elite universities, increasing the overall application pool.

 
Early Decision Strategies: Students and parents may be more inclined to apply early decision to increase their chances, as it often has a higher acceptance rate.

Focus on Holistic Review: As the application pool grows, admissions officers may place greater emphasis on holistic review, considering factors beyond grades and test scores. This can benefit students with unique talents, experiences, or backgrounds.

However, it's important to note that a "lottery mindset" can also be detrimental. It can lead to increased stress and anxiety among applicants, as well as a sense of disillusionment with the college admissions process. Ultimately, while a lottery mindset may have some unintended consequences, it's essential to remember that college admissions is not solely a game of chance. Hard work, dedication, and a well-rounded application can significantly improve a student's chances of acceptance.

The Dark Legacy of Elite University Medical Centers

 

(Image: Mass General is Harvard University Medical School's teaching hospital.)  

 

For decades, America’s elite university medical centers have been the epitome of healthcare research and innovation, providing world-class treatment, education, and cutting-edge medical advancements. Yet, beneath this polished surface lies a troubling legacy of medical exploitation, systemic inequality, and profound injustice—one that disproportionately impacts marginalized communities. While the focus has often been on racial disparities, this issue is not solely about race; it is also deeply entangled with class. In recent years, books like Medical Apartheid by Harriet Washington have illuminated the history of medical abuse, but they also serve as a reminder that inequality in healthcare goes far beyond race and touches upon the economic and social circumstances of individuals.

The term Medical Apartheid, as coined by Harriet Washington, refers to the systemic and institutionalized exploitation of Black Americans in medical research and healthcare. Washington’s work examines the history of Black Americans as both victims of medical experimentation and subjects of discriminatory practices that have left deep scars within the healthcare system. Yet, the complex interplay between race and class means that many poor or economically disadvantaged individuals, regardless of race, have also faced neglect and exploitation within these prestigious medical institutions. The legacy of inequality within elite university medical centers, therefore, is not limited to race but is also an issue of class disparity, where wealthier individuals are more likely to receive proper care and access to cutting-edge treatments while the poor are relegated to substandard care.

Historical examples of exploitation and abuse in medical centers are well-documented in Washington's work, and contemporary lawsuits and investigations reveal that these systemic problems still persist. Poor patients, especially those from marginalized racial backgrounds, are often viewed as expendable research subjects. The lawsuit underscores the intersectionality of race and class, arguing that these patients’ socio-economic status exacerbates their vulnerability to medical exploitation, making it easier for institutions to treat them as less than human, especially when they lack the resources or power to contest medical practices.

One of the most critical components of this issue is the stark contrast in healthcare access between the wealthy and the poor. While elite university medical centers boast state-of-the-art facilities, cutting-edge treatments, and renowned researchers, these resources are often not equally accessible to all. Wealthier patients are more likely to have the financial means to receive the best care, not just because of their ability to pay but because they are more likely to be referred to these prestigious centers. Conversely, low-income patients, especially those without insurance or with inadequate insurance, are often forced into overcrowded public hospitals or community clinics that are underfunded, understaffed, and unable to provide the level of care available at elite institutions.

The issue of class inequality within medical care is evident in several key areas. For instance, studies have shown that low-income patients, regardless of race, are less likely to receive timely and appropriate medical care. A 2019 report from the National Academy of Medicine found that low-income patients are often dismissed by healthcare professionals who underestimate the severity of their symptoms or assume they are less knowledgeable about their own health. In addition, patients from lower socio-economic backgrounds are more likely to experience medical debt, which can lead to long-term financial struggles and prevent them from seeking care in the future.

Moreover, class plays a significant role in the underrepresentation of poor individuals in medical research, which is often conducted at elite university medical centers. Historically, clinical trials have excluded low-income participants, leaving them without access to potentially life-saving treatments or advancements. Wealthier individuals, on the other hand, are more likely to be invited to participate in research studies, ensuring they benefit from the very innovations and breakthroughs that these institutions claim to provide.

Class-based disparities are also reflected in the inequities in medical professions. The road to becoming a physician or researcher in these elite institutions is often paved with significant economic barriers. Medical students from low-income backgrounds face steep financial challenges, which can hinder their ability to gain acceptance into prestigious medical schools or pursue advanced research opportunities. Even when low-income students do manage to enter these programs, they often face biases and discrimination in clinical settings, where their abilities are unfairly questioned, and their economic status may prevent them from fully participating in research or other educational opportunities.

Yet, the inequities within these institutions don’t stop at the patients. Behind the scenes, workers at elite university medical centers, particularly those from working-class and marginalized backgrounds, face their own form of exploitation. These medical centers are not only spaces of high medical achievement but also sites of labor stratification, where workers in lower-paying roles are largely people of color and often immigrants. Support staff—such as janitors, food service workers, custodians, and administrative assistants—are often invisible but essential to the functioning of these hospitals and research institutions. These workers face long hours, poor working conditions, and low wages, all while contributing to the daily operations of elite medical centers. Many of these workers, employed through third-party contractors, lack benefits, job security, or protections, leaving them vulnerable to exploitation.

Custodial workers, who are often exposed to hazardous chemicals and physically demanding work, may struggle to make ends meet, despite playing a crucial role in maintaining the hospital environment. Similarly, food service workers—many of whom are Black, Latinx, or immigrant—also work in demanding conditions for low wages. These workers frequently face job insecurity and are not given the same recognition or compensation as the high-ranking physicians, researchers, or administrators in these centers.

At the same time, the stratification in these institutions extends beyond support staff. Medical researchers, residents, and postdoctoral fellows—often young, early-career individuals, many from working-class backgrounds or communities of color—are similarly subjected to precarious working conditions. These individuals perform much of the vital research that drives innovation at these centers, yet they often face exploitative working hours, low pay, and job insecurity. They are the backbone of the institution’s research output but frequently face barriers to advancement and recognition.

The higher ranks of these institutions—senior doctors, professors, and researchers—enjoy financial rewards, job security, and prestige, while those at the lower rungs continue to experience instability and exploitation. This division, which mirrors the economic and racial hierarchies of broader society, reinforces the very class-based inequalities these medical centers are meant to address.

In recent years, some progress has been made in addressing these inequalities. Many elite universities have implemented diversity and inclusion programs aimed at increasing access for underrepresented minority and low-income students in medical schools. Some institutions have also begun to emphasize the importance of cultural competence in training medical professionals, acknowledging the need to recognize and understand both racial and economic disparities in healthcare.

However, critics argue that these efforts, while important, are often superficial and fail to address the root causes of inequality. The institutional focus on "diversity" and "inclusion" often overlooks the more significant structural issues, such as the affordability of education, the class-based access to healthcare, and the economic barriers that continue to undermine the ability of disadvantaged individuals to receive quality care.

In addition to acknowledging racial inequality, it is crucial to tackle the broader issue of class within the healthcare system. The disproportionate number of Black and low-income individuals suffering from poor healthcare outcomes is a direct result of a system that privileges wealth and status over human dignity. To begin addressing these issues, we need to move beyond token diversity initiatives and work toward policy reforms that focus on economic access, insurance coverage, and the equitable distribution of medical resources.

Scholars like Harriet Washington, whose work documents the intersection of race, class, and healthcare inequality, continue to play a pivotal role in bringing attention to these systemic injustices. Washington’s book Medical Apartheid serves as a historical record but also as a call to action for creating a healthcare system that genuinely serves all people, regardless of race or socio-economic status. The fight for healthcare equity must, therefore, be a dual one—against both racial and class-based disparities that have long plagued our medical institutions.

The story of Henrietta Lacks, as told in The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot, exemplifies the longstanding exploitation of marginalized individuals in elite university medical centers. The case of Lacks, whose cells were taken without consent by researchers at Johns Hopkins University, brings to light both the historical abuse of Black bodies and the profit-driven nature of academic medical research. Johns Hopkins, one of the most prestigious medical centers in the world, has been complicit in the kind of exploitation and neglect that these institutions are often criticized for—issues that disproportionately affect not only Black Americans but also economically disadvantaged individuals.

The Black Panther Party’s healthcare activism, as chronicled by Alondra Nelson in Body and Soul, also directly challenges elite medical institutions’ failure to provide adequate care for Black and low-income communities. Nelson’s work reflects how, even today, these institutions are often slow to address the systemic issues of health disparities that activists like the Panthers fought against.

Recent lawsuits against elite medical centers further underscore the importance of holding these institutions accountable for their role in perpetuating medical exploitation and inequality. In An American Sickness by Elisabeth Rosenthal, the commercialization of healthcare is explored, highlighting how university hospitals and medical centers often prioritize profits over patient care, leaving low-income and marginalized groups with limited access to treatment. Rosenthal’s work highlights the role these institutions play in a larger system that disproportionately benefits wealthier patients while neglecting the most vulnerable.

A Global Comparison: Countries with Better Health Outcomes

While the United States struggles with systemic healthcare disparities, other nations have shown that equitable healthcare outcomes are possible when class and race are not barriers to care. Nations with universal healthcare systems, such as those in Canada, the United Kingdom, and many Scandinavian countries, consistently rank higher in overall health outcomes compared to the U.S.

For instance, Canada’s single-payer system ensures that all citizens have access to healthcare, regardless of their income. This system reduces the financial burdens that often lead to delays in care or avoidance of treatment due to costs. According to the World Health Organization, Canada has better health outcomes on a variety of metrics, including life expectancy and infant mortality, compared to the U.S., where medical costs often lead to unequal access to care.

Similarly, the United Kingdom’s National Health Service (NHS) provides healthcare free at the point of use for all citizens. Despite challenges such as funding constraints and wait times, the NHS has been successful in ensuring that healthcare is a right, not a privilege. The U.K. consistently ranks higher than the U.S. in terms of access to care, health outcomes, and overall public health.

Nordic countries, such as Norway and Sweden, also exemplify how universal healthcare can lead to better outcomes. These countries invest heavily in public health and preventative care, ensuring that even their most marginalized citizens receive the necessary medical services. The result is a population with some of the highest life expectancies and lowest rates of chronic diseases in the world.

These nations show that, while access to healthcare is a critical issue in the U.S., the challenge is not a lack of innovation or capability. Instead, it is the systemic barriers—both racial and economic—that persist in elite medical centers, undermining the potential for universal health equity. The U.S. could learn from these nations by adopting policies that reduce economic inequality in healthcare access and focusing on preventative care and public health strategies that serve all people equally.

Ultimately, the dark legacy of elite university medical centers is not something that can be erased, but it is something that must be acknowledged. Only by confronting this painful history, alongside addressing class-based disparities, can we begin to build a more just and equitable healthcare system—one that serves everyone, regardless of race, background, or socio-economic status. Until this happens, the distrust and skepticism that many marginalized communities feel toward these institutions will continue to shape the landscape of American healthcare. The path forward requires a concerted effort to address both racial and class-based inequities that have defined these institutions for far too long. The U.S. can, and must, strive for healthcare outcomes akin to those seen in nations that have built systems prioritizing equity and fairness—systems that put human dignity over profit.

College Meltdown 3.0 Could Start Earlier (And End Worse) Than Planned

Chronicling the College Meltdown 

Since 2016, the Higher Education Inquirer has documented the College Meltdown as a series of demographic and business trends leading to lower enrollments and making higher education of decreasing value to working-class and middle-class folks. This despite the commonly-held belief that college is the only way to improve social mobility.  

For more than a dozen years, the College Meltdown has been most visible at for-profit colleges and community colleges, but other non-elite schools and for-profit edtech businesses have also been affected. Some regions, states, and counties have been harder hit than others. Non-elite state universities are becoming increasingly vulnerable. 

Elite schools, on the other hand, do not need students for revenues, at least in the short run.  They depend more on endowments, donations, real estate, government grants, corporate grants, and other sources of income. Elite schools also have more than enough demand for their product even after receiving bad press.    

The perceived value and highly variable real value of higher education has made college less attractive to many working-class consumers and to an increasing number of middle-class consumers--who see it as a risky proposition. Degrees in the humanities and social sciences are becoming a tough sell. Even some STEM degrees may not be valuable for too long.  Public opinion about higher education and the value of higher education has been waning and many degrees, especially graduate degrees, have a negative return on investment. 

Tuition and room and board costs have skyrocketed. Online learning has become more prominent, despite persistent questions about its educational value. 

While college degrees have worked for millions of graduates, student loans have mired millions of other former students, and their families, in long-term debt, doing work in fields they aren't happy with. 

Elite degrees for people in the upper class still make sense though, as status symbols and social sorters. And there are some professions that require degrees for inclusion. But those degrees and the lucrative jobs accompanying them disproportionately go to foreigners and immigrants, and their children--a demographic wave that may draw the ire of folks who have lived in the US for generations and who may have not enjoyed the same opportunities.  

Starting Sooner and Ending Worse

The latest phase of the College Meltdown was supposed to result from a declining number of high school graduates in 2025, something Nathan Grawe projected from lower birth rates following the 2008-2009 recession.

But problems with the federal government's financial aid system may mean that a significant decline in enrollment at non-elite schools starts this fall instead of 2025.  

The College Meltdown may become even worse than planned, in terms of lower enrollment and declining revenues to non-elite schools. Enrollment numbers most assuredly will be worse than Department of Education projections of slow growth until 2030. 

In 2023, we wrote about something few others reported on: that community colleges and state universities would feel more financial pressure from by the flip-side of the Baby Boom: the enormous costs of taking care of the elderly which could drain public coffers that subsidize higher education. This was a phenomenon that should also have been anticipated by higher education policy makers, but is still rarely discussed. Suzanne Mettler graphed this out in Degrees of Inequality a decade ago--and the Government Accountability Office noted the huge projected costs in 2002. 

Related links: 

Starting my new book project: Peak Higher Education (Bryan Alexander)

Long-Term Care:Aging Baby Boom Generation Will Increase Demand and Burden on Federal and State Budgets (Government Accountability Office, 2002)

Forecasting the College Meltdown (2016)

Charting the College Meltdown (2017)

US Department of Education Fails to Recognize College Meltdown (2017)

Community Colleges at the Heart of the College Meltdown (2017)

College Enrollment Continues Decline in Several States (2018) 

The College Dream is Over (Gary Roth, 2020)

The Growth of RoboColleges and Robostudents (2021)

Even Elite Schools Have Subprime Majors (2021)

College Meltdown 2.0 (2022)

State Universities and the College Meltdown (2022) 

"20-20": Many US States Have Seen Enrollment Drops of More Than 20 Percent (2022) 

US Department of Education Projects Increasing Higher Ed Enrollment From 2024-2030. Really?(2022)

EdTech Meltdown (2023) 

Enrollment cliff? What enrollment cliff ? (2023)

Department of Education Fails (Again) to Modify Enrollment Projection (2023)

When Will Higher Education Revenues Peak? (2023)

Baby Boomers Turning 80: The Flip Side of the 2026 Enrollment Cliff (2023)  

The Student Loan Mess Updated: Debt as a Form of Social Control and Political Action (2024)

U.S. Law Schools: Perpetuating Inequality and Injustice, Serving the Billionaire Class

As the nation grapples with profound social and economic inequities, U.S. law schools have become a critical yet overlooked institution in perpetuating these disparities. From shaping the legal minds that go on to influence policy to training future attorneys who occupy the nation's corridors of power, law schools are playing an outsized role in entrenching systems of privilege, rather than dismantling them.

One of the most glaring manifestations of this failure is the Trump-era Supreme Court, whose composition has shifted dramatically due to the influence of elite law schools. Justices such as Brett Kavanaugh (Yale Law), Neil Gorsuch (Harvard Law), and Amy Coney Barrett (Notre Dame Law) have reshaped the Court in the image of conservative ideologies. These justices, primarily from elite institutions, have consistently sided with corporate interests over public welfare. Their rulings on critical issues like voting rights (Shelby County v. Holder, 2013), abortion access (Dobbs v. Jackson Women's Health Organization, 2022), and corporate regulation (South Dakota v. Wayfair, Inc., 2018) have had profound consequences, amplifying inequalities and reducing access to justice for marginalized communities. The legal minds trained in these prestigious law schools have moved away from serving the public, instead reinforcing the status quo and further consolidating power in the hands of the wealthy elite.

This trend is compounded by the overwhelming concentration of law school graduates in a handful of sectors, particularly Washington, D.C., and on Wall Street. A report from the National Association for Law Placement (NALP) reveals that nearly 70% of graduates from top law schools—such as Harvard, Yale, and Columbia—secure positions in large corporate law firms or government roles. Meanwhile, those who enter public service or work in underfunded legal fields such as public defense face a starkly different reality. According to the American Bar Association (ABA), the average starting salary for a public defender in 2020 was around $50,000, compared to $190,000 in major corporate law firms. This disparity highlights the economic realities facing graduates who pursue careers in public interest law.

Law schools exacerbate these inequities through their admissions processes, which heavily favor students from affluent backgrounds. A 2019 study by the Equality of Opportunity Project found that 70% of students attending Harvard Law, Yale Law, and other Ivy League law schools come from families in the top 20% income bracket, while less than 5% come from the bottom 20%. This financial divide is perpetuated by high tuition costs—Harvard Law's tuition and fees for the 2024 academic year exceed $70,000 annually—making it inaccessible to many who might otherwise have the talent and potential to succeed in law.

Furthermore, law schools’ connections with corporate sponsors and wealthy alumni networks often shape the curriculum and career pathways offered to students. As a result, legal education has become increasingly oriented toward corporate law, perpetuating a system that values prestige and financial gain over social justice. A 2021 report from the American Bar Foundation indicated that nearly half of law school graduates work in the private sector within the first ten years of their careers, most of them in high-paying corporate firms or lobbying groups, which further concentrates legal power in the hands of the elite.

The oversupply of lawyers entering corporate sectors—many of whom attend the nation’s top law schools—has created a system where elite law firms and government agencies, such as the U.S. Department of Justice and major regulatory bodies, dominate legal decision-making. This trend is also visible in the disproportionate representation of law school graduates in Washington, D.C., where they shape policy in ways that benefit large corporations and financial institutions, while leaving the needs of the general public unmet.

A central aspect of the legal system that perpetuates inequality is the way the billionaire class profits from the injustice system itself. Wealthy individuals and corporate entities have found ways to exploit the legal system to their advantage, contributing to the concentration of wealth and power. Many billionaires and large corporations fund legal battles designed to weaken regulations, block labor rights, and influence policy decisions that benefit their financial interests.

For example, major private prison companies like CoreCivic and GEO Group, both of which have ties to influential law firms, profit from the mass incarceration of predominantly Black and Latino individuals. These private companies lobby for harsher sentencing laws and immigration policies that fill their prisons, creating a cycle of profit that thrives on systemic inequality. Legal professionals trained in elite law schools frequently represent these corporations, further entrenching the power dynamics that keep vulnerable populations incarcerated.

The billionaire class also reaps the benefits of legal loopholes and tax avoidance schemes facilitated by top-tier law firms. Lawyers trained in Ivy League schools often advise wealthy clients on ways to hide their assets, evade taxes, and exploit the legal system for personal gain, which further exacerbates income inequality. Law firms and the lawyers who work in them profit immensely by providing these services, while the broader public bears the burden of underfunded social programs and public services.

The impact of law schools’ role in the legal system is not a new development, but has historical roots. For much of U.S. history, the courts and legal institutions have played a pivotal role in limiting democracy and reinforcing inequalities. However, there have been pivotal moments when the courts, often driven by lawyers trained in the nation's top schools, expanded democracy and fought for justice.

A key moment in the history of expanding democracy was the work of Thurgood Marshall and Charles Hamilton Houston, both of whom were products of Howard University School of Law—a historically Black institution that stood in stark contrast to the elite, mostly white law schools of their time. Marshall, who went on to become the first African American Supreme Court Justice, and Houston, his mentor, fought tirelessly against segregation and racial discrimination. Houston's strategy, dubbed "the 'liberal' approach to civil rights," involved challenging discriminatory laws through the courts, using legal arguments rooted in equal protection and the promise of the 14th Amendment.

Houston's legal battles laid the groundwork for the landmark Brown v. Board of Education (1954) case, where the Supreme Court, under the influence of Marshall's legal strategies, overturned the doctrine of “separate but equal” and declared racial segregation in public schools unconstitutional. This ruling, perhaps one of the most profound examples of the courts expanding democracy, was achieved through the work of legal professionals committed to social justice, many of whom came from institutions outside the mainstream elite law schools.

Unfortunately, the trend of the courts advancing civil rights was not consistent. The Dred Scott v. Sandford (1857) decision, where the Supreme Court ruled that African Americans could not be citizens, and Plessy v. Ferguson (1896), which upheld racial segregation, serve as stark reminders of how the legal system can be wielded to entrench inequality and limit democracy. The very law schools that trained many of the justices responsible for these rulings were also responsible for shaping the legal education that upheld the racist and exclusionary structures of the time.

Today, the cycle of legal education serving the interests of the wealthy and powerful continues. While the courts have sometimes played a role in broadening civil rights and democracy, too often they have sided with corporate interests, limiting progress. Lawyers trained in elite law schools continue to occupy spaces where the rules of the game are rigged in favor of those with wealth and influence.

To reverse this trend, law schools must take deliberate action. They must shift their focus from training lawyers for the highest-paying and most prestigious jobs to producing attorneys who are dedicated to the public good. This includes increasing financial accessibility, offering more scholarships for low-income students, and reevaluating the curriculum to emphasize social justice, public interest law, and equitable legal reforms. Moreover, legal education should challenge the structures of wealth and power, ensuring that future lawyers are equipped to dismantle the systems that benefit billionaires and corporations at the expense of justice.

The influence of law schools in perpetuating inequality cannot be overstated. The future of the legal profession—and, by extension, the justice system—depends on whether these institutions can embrace a new mission: one that fosters true equality under the law and dismantles the structures of privilege that continue to shape our society.

One Fascism or Two?: The Reemergence of "Fascism(s)" in US Higher Education

The Higher Education Inquirer is conducting an extensive investigation of the reemergence of fascism in US higher education.  The examination aims to: define and operationalize the concept of fascism, investigate the roots of American fascism since the 17th century, and chronicle the most important cases of fascism in US higher education today.  As part of a democratic process, we ask readers to be involved in the research and writing of this project.  

Reader Input

Additions and corrections will be made with input from readers of the Higher Education Inquirer.  Please add your comments in the section at the bottom. For those who wish to remain anonymous, you can provide feedback by emailing me at dahnshaulis@gmail.com. 

Definition(s) of Fascism(s)

The word fascism has been used by politicians and American writers on the Left and Right for generations.  It may not be possible to create a consensus of what fascism is, or how it appears in US society. This space is likely to be edited as more comments are received.  

*Laurence W. Britt, the author of Fascism Anyone, described 14 elements of fascism here. 

*Italian historian Umberto Eco described 14 elements of fascism here.

*Yale professor Jason Stanley explains "How Fascism Works" here.  

Origins of Fascism in US Higher Education 

US higher education was founded on the taking of land from indigenous people, and oppressing people of color for four centuries. Enslaved Africans and their descendants were part of the origin and continuation of elite American schools for two hundred years.  White, Protestant, males from elite backgrounds had most of the higher educational opportunities--and the names of robber barons and tobacco magnates (Stanford, Carnegie Mellon, Johns Hopkins, Duke) became part of the elite pantheon.  Thorstein Veblen and Upton Sinclair provided a great deal of information on this. 

While there has been more democracy at times, people of color, women, and working-class folks have been excluded or discriminated against for all of US history.  The federal government (Department of Defense, CIA) and US corporations (particularly federal contractors) have also held great importance in the direction of higher education, servicing their most oppressive anti-democratic, colonial elements.  

In the 21st century, historians Craig Steven Wilder and others dug up the white supremacist roots of elite universities. In a zero-sum game, historically privileged groups and individuals may also feel aggrieved and oppressed when others succeed or are placed ahead of them in line.    

Propagation of Fascism in 2022 (Contemporary Examples in No Particular Order) 

This section will evolve with the help of reader comments.  Here are some preliminary examples of varying importance: 

Role in Mass Surveillance 

"Savage Inequalities" in the K-12 Pipeline 

Hunger, poverty, prostitution, and drug sales among college students 

Sexual assault of college students

Anti-intellectualism in America

Rise of Charlie Kirk, Turning Point USA, Turning Point Action, and Students for Trump  

Turning Point USA's Professor Watchlist

Police State and Strong Military Supported 

Use of Propaganda and Disinformation to Oppress "Minorities" and Empower Big Corporations

Predatory Marketing and Advertising 

Legalization of Hate Speech in US Higher Education 

Book Burning and Censorship in US Society

Role of Corporate Power in Higher Education (e.g. Boards, Endowments, Contracts)

Role of Elite Families in Higher Education (e.g. Walton Family Foundation, Koch Brothers) 

Land Theft Through Gentrification and College Expansion 

Tax Avoidance by Elite Schools to Rob Public Coffers 

Colleges Colluding to Limit Financial Aid 

Role of Higher Education in Educating Reactionary Judges and Politicians

State-Sponsored Think Tanks to Support Elites and Oppress Others (e.g. Liberty Institute at University of Texas)

Bomb Threats Against Historically Black Colleges and Universities

End of Affirmative Action for African Americans but Continued Use of Legacies 

Reduction of Needs Based Grants and Scholarships 

Management Corruption, Robocolleges, and the Loss of Labor Power in US Higher Education 

Expenditure of Elite Endowment Funds to Fund Anti-Democratic Organizations

Role of NCAA Football in Promoting Oppressive Values (No Wages, Poor Safety, Sports Gambling) 

Role of US Universities in Supporting Human Rights Violators (e.g. Russia, People's Republic of China) 

Role of US Universities in Undermining Foreign Efforts in Democratization  

Use of "Credentials" as a Legal Form of Discrimination 

Non-Disclosure Agreements

Anti-Union Efforts in Higher Education

Student Loan Peonage, Declining Social Mobility, and the "Educated Underclass"

Related link: US Higher Education and the Intellectualization of White Supremacy

Related link: UT Austin President Eats Cake in a Pandemic (Austin Longhorn*)

Related link: Coursera IPO Reveals Bleak Future For Global Labor

Related link: Guild Education: Enablers of Anti-Union Corporations and Subprime College Programs

Related link: Maximus, Student Loan Debt, and the Poverty Industrial Complex

Related link: Community Colleges at the Heart of College Meltdown

Related link: The Tragedy of Human Capital Theory in Higher Education (Glen McGhee*)

Related link: Higher Education Inquirer: The Growth of "RoboColleges" and "Robostudents"

Related link: SLABS: The Soylent Green of US Higher Education

Dahn Shaulis

Higher Education Inquirer

Wealth and Want Part 2: Continued University Expansion and Displacement of Others

In Wealth and Want Part 1 we briefly mentioned the origins of university wealth, including generations of land theft and the use of forced labor. The origins of elite universities and large flagship universities in the 17th through 19th centuries came largely from the exploitation of others and of the environment. This exploitation continues today, not just through their endowments, but in the real estate that universities continue to take for their advantage, often at the expense of their neighbors.

Harvard University: The expansion of Harvard University in the 19th century led to the displacement of African American residents from the neighborhood of Roxbury.

Columbia University: In the 19th century, Columbia University's expansion contributed to the displacement of residents from Morningside Heights.

University of Chicago: The University of Chicago's expansion in the late 19th century led to the displacement of residents from the Hyde Park neighborhood. 

Stanford University: Stanford's expansion in the late 19th century led to the displacement of Native American Ohlone people from the Palo Alto area.

University of Michigan: In the late 19th century, the University of Michigan's expansion contributed to the displacement of residents from Ann Arbor's Old West Side neighborhood.

University of Texas at Austin: The university's expansion in the early 20th century led to the displacement of residents from the East Austin neighborhood.

University of California, Berkeley: The university's expansion in the 20th century contributed to the displacement of African American residents from the West Berkeley neighborhood.


Elite universities during the Great Depression were generally able to weather the storm better than many other institutions. However, they were not entirely immune to the economic hardships of the time. Here's a breakdown of how they fared.

Endowment Funds: Many elite universities had substantial endowment funds, which provided a crucial financial cushion during the Depression. These funds allowed them to maintain their operations and continue offering high-quality education.

Reduced Enrollment: Despite their financial advantages, most elite universities experienced a decline in enrollment as families struggled to afford tuition. This decrease in revenue put pressure on their budgets.

Faculty Salaries: Some universities had to reduce faculty salaries or even lay off staff to cut costs. However, many institutions were able to maintain their core faculty and avoid significant cuts.

Government Support: In some cases, elite universities received government support, such as grants or contracts, to help them weather the economic downturn.

Alumni Donations: Alumni donations played a vital role in supporting elite universities during the Depression. Many alumni felt a strong sense of loyalty to their institutions and were willing to contribute financially to help them through difficult times.


The expansion of elite universities has continued.  Here are some examples.

University of Virginia: In the 1960s and 70s, the University of Virginia's expansion led to the displacement of residents from the Vinegar Hill neighborhood, a predominantly Black community.

Old Dominion University: In Virginia, Old Dominion University's expansion has displaced Black families in the Lambert's Point neighborhood.

New York University: NYU's expansion in New York City has contributed to rising rents and gentrification, pushing many longtime residents out of their neighborhoods.

University of California, Los Angeles (UCLA): UCLA's expansion has contributed to rising housing costs and gentrification in surrounding neighborhoods, leading to the displacement of many low-income residents of color.

University of Southern California (USC): USC's expansion has contributed to rising housing costs and gentrification in surrounding neighborhoods, leading to the displacement of many low-income residents of color.

University of Michigan: The University of Michigan's expansion in Ann Arbor has led to rising housing costs and gentrification, displacing many long-time residents, including people of color.

University of Texas at Austin: The university's expansion has contributed to rising housing costs and gentrification in Austin, leading to the displacement of many low-income residents, including people of color.

University of Pennsylvania: The expansion of Penn has contributed to increased demand for housing and commercial space, driving up prices. This has made it difficult for many long-time residents to remain in the neighborhood.

Temple: Temple's expansion has also played a role in gentrification, as the university has attracted more students and faculty, leading to increased demand for housing and services.

University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill: The expansion of UNC-Chapel Hill led to the displacement of residents from the segregated Black neighborhood of Black Hill.

University of Georgia: The expansion of the University of Georgia contributed to the displacement of residents from the African American neighborhood of Athens Terrace.

Louisiana State University: LSU's expansion in Baton Rouge has contributed to rising housing costs and gentrification, leading to the displacement of many low-income residents of color.

Johns Hopkins: The expansion of Johns Hopkins in Baltimore has contributed to rising housing costs and gentrification in the surrounding neighborhoods. This has made it difficult for many long-time residents to remain in the area.

Vanderbilt: In Nashville, Vanderbilt's expansion has also contributed to gentrification. The university's growth has attracted more students, faculty, and staff, leading to increased demand for housing and services, which has driven up prices.

Georgetown University: Georgetown's expansion has contributed to the gentrification of the Georgetown neighborhood, leading to rising housing costs and the displacement of many long-time residents.

George Washington University: GWU's expansion has also played a role in gentrification, particularly in the Foggy Bottom and West End neighborhoods.

American University: AU's growth has contributed to rising housing costs in the Tenleytown neighborhood.

University Presidents Called to Action

Elite universities, long considered the pinnacle of higher education, have become increasingly entwined in a broader conversation about privilege, access, and power. From their controversial legacy admissions practices to their outsized political influence, these institutions are not merely places of learning—they are gatekeepers of social and economic power, shaping the future through both exclusion and influence. Beyond their academic roles, these universities have extended their reach into local communities, using their enormous wealth and influence to take control of land, shape urban landscapes, and solidify their power within regional politics.

The legacy admissions system, which provides preferential treatment to the children and grandchildren of alumni, is a glaring example of how these universities perpetuate privilege. Institutions such as Harvard, Yale, Princeton, and Stanford—universities that consistently rank among the top in the nation—have long utilized this practice to ensure that the doors to elite education remain open to those already within the circles of power. By admitting students with lesser academic qualifications solely because of their family connections, these schools continue a long tradition of insularity, effectively reserving spaces for the wealthy and well-connected. Despite growing opposition, including recent moves by California’s private colleges to ban legacy admissions, the practice remains a powerful force, locking out more qualified, diverse applicants and ensuring that the privileged maintain access to elite institutions.

In addition to these admissions practices, elite universities exert considerable influence on the political landscape. The recent revelations about their political spending—millions funneled into federal campaigns, overwhelmingly favoring Democratic candidates—highlight a disturbing trend. Universities like Harvard, Stanford, and Johns Hopkins are not neutral players in the policy arena; they are active participants in shaping the very policies that benefit their interests. Whether it’s lobbying for federal funding, securing advantageous tax policies, or influencing regulations related to higher education, these universities use their wealth to protect and expand their power. These schools are not just centers of academic pursuit—they are political players in their own right, using their financial clout to shape the policies that govern education, tax law, and more.

Beyond their influence in academia and politics, elite universities increasingly exert power over the very land on which they sit. In many cities, top-tier universities like Harvard, Stanford, Columbia, and the University of Chicago are not just educational institutions—they are economic and political powerhouses. With multi-billion-dollar endowments, these institutions often wield more financial clout than entire cities. They routinely expand their campuses, purchasing properties, and in some cases, entire neighborhoods, often displacing long-standing communities in the process. This process, commonly known as "university-led gentrification," transforms urban spaces, driving up property values and rents while pushing out lower-income residents.

Universities often justify their land acquisitions as part of their mission to expand their campuses, build new research centers, and offer more housing for students and faculty. However, the impact on local communities can be severe. In many cases, universities use their tax-exempt status to avoid paying property taxes on the land they acquire, depriving local governments of revenue while also claiming a disproportionate share of urban space. This allows them to grow their influence without contributing fully to the neighborhoods in which they are embedded.

This land-grabbing behavior has sparked resistance in cities across the country. In Boston, for example, Harvard and MIT have been critiqued for taking over large swaths of land in the Allston and Kendall Square neighborhoods, displacing low-income residents and local businesses. In New York, Columbia’s expansion into Harlem sparked protests from community members who felt their homes and livelihoods were being sacrificed to the university’s growth. In many cases, these universities lobby local governments to secure favorable zoning laws, tax breaks, and exemptions that allow them to build at will and maintain their growing empire.

Both legacy admissions and political donations underscore a fundamental truth: elite universities are not just educational institutions—they are institutions of power. They maintain an oligarchic structure that privileges those already in positions of wealth and influence, while shaping local economies and political systems to ensure their continued dominance. By hoarding access to elite education, they perpetuate a system in which the children of the wealthy have a head start in both education and society, while simultaneously lobbying for policies that further cement their own influence. Through their land acquisitions, gentrification, political donations, and admissions practices, these universities continue to consolidate their power, reinforcing an elitist status quo that leaves many outside looking in.

In all of this, university presidents have increasingly positioned themselves as moral arbiters, asserting their institutions’ commitment to social justice, inclusion, and equality. Yet this moral high ground becomes precarious when their administrations take extreme measures to suppress resistance. Protests against their policies—whether regarding gentrification, climate change, or labor rights—are often met with heavy-handed tactics. University leaders, eager to preserve their public image, have been known to deploy security forces, call in the police, or even collaborate with local governments to disband protests. In some cases, these universities have resorted to legal action against student and faculty activists, silencing dissent through threats of discipline, expulsion, or other punitive measures.

This duplicity becomes even more apparent when considering the moral stands many university leaders take in public, promoting inclusivity, diversity, and progressive values, while simultaneously suppressing those who challenge their institution’s power dynamics. In the face of mounting resistance from marginalized communities or student groups, these leaders prefer to maintain control over their campuses and public narratives, often using administrative power to quash any movements that may disrupt the status quo.

Yet, history has shown that even the most entrenched systems can change, and university presidents are not beyond the possibility of transformation. Just as some figures in the Bible experienced profound revelations that led them to change course and right their wrongs, university leaders, too, can have moments of reckoning. Consider the example of King David, whose heart was changed after his confrontation with the prophet Nathan over his sin (2 Samuel 12). David, once blinded by his own power, repented and chose a path of humility and righteousness. In the same way, university presidents, confronted by the voices of resistance, public outcry, or moral awakening, could choose to lead their institutions toward a more just and equitable future. In the New Testament, Saul’s conversion on the road to Damascus (Acts 9) serves as another powerful reminder that no one is beyond redemption. Saul, who once persecuted early Christians, was transformed into Paul, one of the most influential apostles in Christian history. Similarly, a university president could choose to recognize the harm their institution has caused and decide to enact transformative policies that benefit marginalized communities and dismantle the systems of privilege they have helped sustain.

Moses is another figure whose story exemplifies the power of divine revelation to shift course. As a prince of Egypt, Moses had everything at his disposal, yet he chose to stand up to Pharaoh when he recognized the injustice of the Hebrew people’s oppression. His moment of conviction led him to free his people from slavery, even though it required courage to defy a powerful ruler (Exodus 3-4). In the same way, a university president must stand up to the powerful trustees and donors who expect to maintain the status quo. To act in the face of such resistance requires profound moral courage—a willingness to lead against entrenched interests that protect wealth and privilege.

Another key figure in the Old Testament is Esther, who displayed extraordinary courage in a moment of great moral clarity. She risked her life by standing up to King Xerxes to save the Jewish people from annihilation (Esther 4). As the queen, she was in a powerful position, but it was only when she realized the enormity of the injustice at hand that she chose to act. Similarly, university presidents with the power to challenge the status quo can, like Esther, use their positions to advocate for justice and equality, even if it means confronting powerful forces that wish to preserve an unjust order.

As university presidents come face to face with the overwhelming issues of racism, injustice, and climate chaos, there exists the possibility of moral revelation—a turning point where they confront the gravity of their actions and their institutions’ role in perpetuating harm. The growing calls for racial justice, fueled by movements like Black Lives Matter, demand an acknowledgment of the systemic racism embedded in these universities. Whether through the disproportionate representation of wealthy white students or the stark inequities in faculty and leadership diversity, these institutions must reckon with their participation in racial oppression. Similarly, as the climate crisis deepens, universities’ investments in fossil fuels and their ongoing complicity in the destruction of the environment have become focal points for student activists and global environmental movements. Universities, often perceived as beacons of progress, have a responsibility to divest from industries contributing to ecological collapse and instead use their vast resources for environmental justice.

And yet, one of the greatest challenges these university leaders will face lies not only in the resistance of external forces like protestors, activists, and the general public, but also in the powerful trustees and donors who hold significant sway over the institutions’ direction. Many universities are closely tied to wealthy benefactors and influential trustees whose interests often align with maintaining the status quo—whether through preserving investment strategies, political stances, or traditional admissions processes. These figures are not simply investors in the university's future; they are powerful stakeholders with the resources to shape institutional policies and procedures, often with little regard for social justice or environmental responsibility.

For a university president to truly lead with courage and integrity, they must be willing to go against these powerful forces. This would require challenging the entrenched interests of those who have long benefited from an elite, exclusionary system and are reluctant to embrace the radical changes needed to address systemic injustice. It takes immense fortitude to stand up to trustees and donors who view universities as tools for preserving their wealth and influence, rather than forces for good in the world.

But university presidents who choose to go against these forces can become true moral leaders. They can take inspiration from figures like Moses, who boldly defied Pharaoh’s power to liberate the oppressed, or Esther, whose bravery in standing up to the king saved her people (Esther 4). In doing so, they would not only transform their institutions but also serve as examples of ethical leadership in a time when such leadership is sorely needed.

The courage to defy powerful donors and trustees would mark a dramatic shift in how elite universities operate. Presidents could, if they choose, champion a new vision—one where social justice, racial equality, and environmental sustainability are at the forefront of institutional priorities. Just as Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt toward a promised land of freedom, so too could university presidents lead their institutions out of the grip of elitism and corporate influence, steering them toward a more equitable and just future.

Both legacy admissions, political donations, land control, and the suppression of protest point to a deeper issue: elite universities have built themselves into institutions of unparalleled power. These universities operate not only as educational establishments but also as political and economic entities, constantly reinforcing a structure of privilege, wealth, and exclusion. The dissonance between their public declarations of moral authority and their actions to protect entrenched power reveals the true nature of these institutions. They are not the bastions of free inquiry and social good they often claim to be—they are powerful, self-interested players in a system that serves to preserve the very inequalities they profess to challenge.

However, the possibility remains that these institutions—guided by transformative leadership—could embrace a new path. University presidents could heed the call for justice, as many leaders in history have, and change the trajectory of their institutions, opting to lead in ways that promote true equity, racial justice, and environmental stewardship. These universities—once seen as places of learning and opportunity—could become what they claim to be: inclusive, just, and truly committed to the betterment of society. They are the architects of the future they seek to create: one where the privileged no longer remain firmly entrenched at the top, and where political, economic, and educational structures are reshaped for the common good. Whether through legacy admissions, political spending, land control, or suppressing protest, these institutions continue to consolidate their power, but with the right leadership, they can still pivot toward a more just future—one that embodies the values they espouse.

[Editor's note: This essay, written for elite university presidents, is intended as a rhetorical device rather than a statement of facts. We find that everyone has their own "mythology" or set of mythologies they follow. As with all our work, we value your feedback.]

Wealth and Want Part 1: Multi-Billion Dollar Endowments

US higher education reflects and reinforces a world of increasing inequality, injustice, and inhumanity. This system (or some would call it an industry) should function as a conduit between good K-12 education, good jobs, and the wellness of all its citizens, whether they attend or not. But increasingly, it does not. 

The first installments of the Wealth and Want series examine the concentration of wealth in the US higher education system.  And this article focuses on loosely regulated university endowments. While many American schools struggle to provide basic amenities and academic resources, elite universities boast endowments that rival the GDPs of small nations. And they pay little in taxes. 

The Endowment Elite and Ill-Gotten Gains

At the pinnacle of higher education wealth are Harvard ($49B), The University of Texas System ($44B), Yale ($40B), Stanford ($36B), and Princeton ($34B). These institutions have amassed endowments that provide a steady stream of income for investments, scholarships, and research initiatives. How their money is invested is rarely known.  

Endowment managers at elite schools typically make more than a million dollars a year. The most elite schools pay their managers $5M-$10M a year, with compensation largely based on returns. But those managers still get hefty salaries even when they lose money.

There are more than 120 schools with endowments greater than a billion dollars. But the 20 richest university endowments together hold more wealth than the other 5000 or so other higher education institutions combined. 

Elite endowments are often the result of centuries of fundraising, donations, and strategic (sometimes shady) investments. For many of the most prestigious schools, it began with land theft and generations of forced labor. 

For other wealthy schools, it was the result of philanthropic robber barons like Johns Hopkins (who also held captives), Andrew Carnegie, Leland Stanford, John D. Rockefeller, Cornelius Vanderbilt, and James Buchanan Duke who made their wealth through mass exploitation of people and the planet. 

For wealthy flagship state universities, it also came from land theft. In the case of the University of Texas, its wealth largely came from, and to some degree still comes from the exploitation of fossil fuels that jeopardize the planet.

Historical Context and Structural Inequality

• Land Theft and the Founding of Institutions: The establishment of many American universities, including Ivy League institutions and those founded under the Morrill Act, was often intertwined with land theft from Native American tribes. This practice, often referred to as "land dispossession" or "Indian removal," was a key component of Manifest Destiny and the expansion of European settlement across the continent.
• Ivy League Universities: Institutions like Harvard, Yale, and Columbia were granted land by colonial governments, which often acquired these lands through treaties that were coerced or violated. They also used enslaved labor to build and maintain their wealth.  
• Funding Models: The funding models for public higher education often favor larger, research-intensive universities. This can lead to underfunding for smaller, less prestigious institutions, particularly those serving marginalized communities.
• Endowment Inequality and Profits Over People and Planet: Endowments are a powerful tool for wealth accumulation and institutional advantage. The concentration of endowments in a few elite universities can exacerbate existing inequalities and create a self-perpetuating cycle of privilege.  These endowments have also engaged in shady investments that perpetuated worker oppression, genocide, and environmental destruction. 

Related links:

Pay and Chief Investment Officers: Good Money while It Lasts

Tax Wealthy Private Universities Now (Paul Prescod, Jacobin)

The K-12 Pipeline for Global Elites: Inequality and Injustice Start Here

The K-12 pipeline for global elites operates as a separate and often invisible track compared to the public system. Instead of merit and potential, this pipeline is characterized by privilege, resources, and a focus on gaining admission to prestigious universities. Here's a breakdown of its key features:

Early Investment:

• Elite Private Schools: Wealthy families from around the world enroll their children in elite boarding schools. These schools are known for smaller class sizes, rigorous academics, and experienced teachers. 

  Students include the children of elites from China (including Hong Kong), Taiwan, South Korea, Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam, Russia, Uzbekistan, Ukraine, Canada, the United Kingdom, Germany, Australia, Brazil, and Venezuela. Room and board can exceed $60,000 a year. 

  Elite schools do offer scholarships to lesser folks, not out of charity, but because they provide value to the institutions. But these scholarships do not outweigh the immense privileges that the children of elites receive before, during, and after school. 
  

• Enrichment Activities: Extracurricular activities like sports, music, theater, and coding classes are actively encouraged. These activities not only enhance well-rounded development but also provide opportunities for leadership and awards, which can bolster college applications.

• Test Prep and College Counseling: Students receive extensive coaching for standardized tests like the SAT and ACT, maximizing their chances of achieving high scores. Professional college counselors guide them through the complex application process, including essay writing, recommendation letters, and strategic college selection.

Parental Involvement:

• High Expectations: Parents of elite students often set high academic expectations and provide a supportive environment conducive to learning. This includes access to educational resources, technology, and quiet study spaces. Working class parents may hold their children to high standards, but they may not have the time or resources.
  

• Networking and Alumni Connections: Elite parents may leverage their own professional networks and alumni connections to secure internships, research opportunities, or even preferential consideration from colleges and universities.  While working class folks have networks, such as religious organizations and labor unions, they cannot offer connections that elites have.
  

The Outcomes:

• Standardized Test Scores: Students on the elite track consistently achieve higher scores on standardized tests, increasing their competitiveness for admission to selective universities.
  

• College Admissions: These students are well-positioned for admission to prestigious universities, often securing spots at Ivy League institutions or other highly ranked schools. This opens doors to exclusive networks, prestigious internships, and faculty mentorship that can further propel their careers.

Socrates in Space: University of Austin as a Model of America's Ivory Tower Future

The University of Austin's inaugural class begins this September. While its founding has had some media attention, critical and uncritical, little is known about the school, other than its founders and some of the curriculum--and more recently about the school's constitution and austere, free market business model. We expect the public to receive information akin to propaganda from the new university while investigative reporters attempt to find what's really developing.  

Tomorrowland's Elite Model

The US has had three major growth periods in elite higher education with the founding of Christian-based Ivy League schools in the 17th and 18th centuries, the rise of more private colleges in the 19th century, and the evolution of state flagship universities in the 20th century, which altered their missions from teaching to focus more on research and medicine.

According to President Pano Kanelos, the University of Austin (UATX) is modeled after elite schools founded by the money of 19th century capitalists: Johns Hopkins University, the University of Chicago (John D. Rockefeller), and Stanford University. In its original plan, the school is seeking accreditation but not public funding. And without federal funding, the school is not required to be transparent on a number of issues, including finances, student demographics, and crime statistics. A limited amount of information will be available on the institution's IRS 990 forms.

UATX's leaders see the school as a model for elite education in the 21st century and beyond: socializing future elites in neo-classical western thought and the search of the truth as they know it: through the lens of US venture capitalists and US private equity. The school's donors include Palantir co-founder Joe Lonsdale who created the start up funds for UATX, real estate investor Harlan Crow, and global real estate investor Scott Malkin.  

Despite its calling for intellectual diversity, the University of Austin will serve as a safe space for conservative and libertarian youth, especially young men: blind to race, class, and gender, and friendly to those who may feel intimidated by progressive folks and the recent pro-Palestinian movement on elite campuses. UATX will be attuned to the needs of private capital and the promotion of their ventures and the ventures of their allies: from bitcoin, to artificial intelligence, to private space exploration. 

Command and Control

At the University of Austin, there will be no faculty senate and no faculty tenure. The initial faculty roster is composed of 19 men and 4 women--and appears to be disproportionately white. Staff and support roles will be done largely by artificial intelligence and workers in Guatemala.   

 

Artificial Intelligence will be used to reduce labor costs at the University of Austin. 

Prospective students will selected by the faculty and on merit, which includes standardized test scores. Those who matriculate will learn classical and neoclassical western philosophy (like Socrates and the Federalist Papers) and English Literature in combination with science and engineering, where all students will take the same coursework for the first two years, then become research fellows in the remaining two years, with each student involved in practically solving "a major political, social or economic problem...by the time they graduate."

Students will share apartments off campus where they will do their own cooking. There will be no amenities on campus or campus police, but local gyms and local police will be in the area. Aside from the Austin Union, the student body is expected to start their own clubs and activities. The physical library is a small room with a few bookshelves, and the librarian has additional duties. Civil debate is encouraged, but campus protests will be limited--it is said, to protect the rights of all students. 

The founding 2024 class is expected to enroll 100 students, growing to 200 students in 2025 and 1,000 students in 2028, reaching a peak of 4,000, and with a new campus. After the founding class, which will receive free tuition for four years, tuition is expected to be about $32,500 per year, with a number of students receiving scholarships.

Related links:

The Constitution of Academic Liberty (Niall Ferguson, National Affairs)

Can the New University of Austin Revive the Culture of Inquiry in Higher Education? (Joanne Jacobs, Education Next)

An American Education: Notes from UATX (Noah Rawlings, The New Inquiry)

Austin’s Anti-Woke University Is Living in Dreamland (Morgan O'Hanlon)

The Future of Publicly-Funded University Hospitals (Dahn Shaulis and Glen McGhee)

A People's History of Higher Education in the US?

Dangerous Spaces: Sexual Assault and Other Forms of Violence On and Off Campus