Editor’s Note: The following article was originally published by the National Association of Scholars on June 23, 2026. It is crossposted here with permission.

Secretary of Education Linda McMahon sent a letter on August 3 to “University Presidents and Governing Boards.” It summons university leaders to issue official statements by the end of this year committing themselves to action on seven matters. The letter is short—three pages—and straightforward. The terms need no explication, but a few comments might be in order. For the sake of convenience, the seven desiderata are:

• Ensuring transparency in college admissions
• Ensuring free exchange of ideas
• Bringing intellectual pluralism to all faculty hiring
• Making college affordable
• Maintaining academic rigor in the age of AI
• Protecting academic programs from foreign influence
• Protecting America’s security

These ought not to be controversial, but I anticipate that as I write this, a phalanx of writers is already at work denouncing the letter—Academe Blog has already written its first attack on McMahon’s letter—and all its contents as a dire threat to institutional autonomy, academic freedom, social justice, and more. Anything coming from the Trump administration is assumed to be an attack driven by the animus against higher education.

The Secretary’s letter comes a year after the Trump administration’s previous attempt to persuade colleges and universities to sign a “compact” that would have advanced some of the same goals. The compact was far longer and more detailed, and included carrots and sticks. The most important carrot was to offer the institutions that adopted it priority in receiving federal funding. The sticks were penalties for signers that did not live up to their commitments. In the end, none of the first tranche of universities invited to sign it agreed. It died.

I had reservations about the “compact,” and said so at the time, but I also thought it brought important matters to light and could do more good than harm. I also note that the compact was President Trump’s second attempt to prompt reform in higher education. His first attempt was the stream of more than 50 executive orders he issued, starting at the very beginning of his term. The executive orders had some good effects but were stonewalled by many institutions and challenged in federal courts so often that they proved to be more spark than fire.

Secretary McMahon’s letter inaugurates phase three of the Trump administration’s campaign to reform higher education. What’s different this time? Tone, timing, and circumstance.

Tone. The Secretary’s letter is mildly phrased. It draws attention to serious problems, but it compliments Yale, Vanderbilt, and Washington Universities for their initiatives in recognizing those problems and proposing solutions. The seven points are framed as “questions,” not as declarations.

Timing. The Secretary’s letter “calls on” institutions to respond by the end of this year. It does not threaten consequences if institutions fail to act, but it offers a generous window for them to consider how to respond.

Circumstance. The Secretary’s letter alludes to matters that everyone in higher education knows about, but many have attempted to avoid. Avoidance isn’t working. The long-anticipated “demographic cliff” has arrived. Fewer domestic students will be attending college. International student enrollment has declined and will, in all likelihood, decline further. AI is changing the calculations of students on whether to attend college and, if so, what to study. Institutional finances are, in many cases, perilous. Many small colleges have permanently closed or merged. Many large universities have laid off faculty members and eliminated whole academic programs. And as the Secretary’s letter underscores, public trust in American higher education has fallen precipitously.

Circumstance probably matters most of all. Higher education has shown its cleverness in thwarting President Trump’s impositions. They can play a shell game with “diversity, equity, and inclusion” programs. They can count on federal judges to gut executive orders. They can play for the long game, hoping to wait out the Trump administration. They can hide their operations behind clouds of confidentiality. But even as they win the small game, they lose the big one. Higher education has entered an era of decline.

The decline will be terminal for some. Perhaps many. Americans in the years ahead will have little appetite for funding the higher education regime that grew up in the Cold War as a middle-class entitlement. The vast expansion of educational bureaucracy, much of it in support of a therapeutic vision of serving students, is destined to go the way of the academic programs now deemed superfluous.

Perhaps someone will think of a practical use for all the empty campuses. Retirement homes? Minimum security prisons? Migrant labor hostels? But before we get to that point, the boards of trustees and college presidents will have to make their best efforts to see if their particular institutions will be among those that survive the coming dis-establishment of college as a safe and mature part of the American scene. It is an industry already in decline, with the prospect of accelerating its obsolescence.

Answering Secretary McMahon’s seven questions could be the wisest choice a college could make.

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