President Trump has launched a series of actions against some of the nation’s top universities, accusing them of promoting “anti-American insanity.” He has attempted to slash funding for scientific research and has announced probes into diversity programs, even suggesting new taxes on university endowments. Brown and Columbia universities have been caught in the crosshairs, with faculty or former students facing detention and threats of deportation. Just recently, the administration withheld $175 million from the University of Pennsylvania, citing issues related to its policies on transgender athletes.
In response to the fear of punitive measures, some universities have started making concessions, like banning diversity statements in faculty hiring or considering the removal of terms like “diverse” from their hospital websites. Such actions, however, may undermine their fundamental role as bastions of free speech and critical discourse.
Instead of yielding, these prestigious institutions should draw on the financial autonomy provided by their endowments, which are often in the tens of billions. University leaders should unite with a firm stance, refusing to compromise on free speech, diversity initiatives, or campus research to placate any political figure. Wealthier universities should commit to using their endowment resources to cushion any cuts to federal funding for research, education, or student aid, except where donor conditions prevent it. Endowments might even support legal defenses for students and scholars facing deportation threats.
So far, many university presidents have opted for a low profile, rather than collectively challenging President Trump’s initiatives. This approach poses a risk. An authoritarian playbook often involves targeting notable individuals or institutions, leading others to avoid critiquing the authoritarian figure out of fear. Often, universities are among the first targets in these scenarios. President Trump’s moves to reduce federal research grants and detain university affiliates, combined with his displeasure over diversity programs and campus protests, signal an emerging strategy of suppression in the U.S.
One striking example is the administration’s decision to retract $400 million from Columbia University because it did not swiftly address protests concerning the Gaza conflict last year. The administration expressed willingness to reinstate funding if Columbia adhered to nine initial demands, including expelling certain students and reconfiguring departmental structures. On Friday, Columbia agreed to some of these stipulations.
But imagine if Columbia had decided otherwise. With an endowment nearing $15 billion, the $400 million federal cuts would have been manageable over several years. Even if Columbia had to dip into its endowment to cover the shortfall in one go, it would only slightly increase its annual endowment withdrawal from about 5% to just under 8%. Similar strategies were employed by various universities during the financial crises of 2008 and the COVID-19 pandemic.
Columbia’s endowment is likely to grow despite increased spending, considering its recent annual return of approximately 8.5% and consistent donations of about $200 million each year. Other affluent institutions have fared even better. Even if the Trump administration reduced Columbia’s federal funding—which encompasses roughly $1.3 billion annually—Columbia could challenge those cuts legally, especially in partnership with other wealthy universities. Moreover, alumni support could replenish any endowment strain caused by governmental policies; fundraising campaigns practically write themselves in these situations.
Simply put, financially speaking, Columbia could stand its ground and thrive. It’s likely that university presidents across the country may face similar dilemmas in the near future. Lawsuits have provided some universities short-term victories against the government’s proposed funding cuts. However, even wealthy universities like Harvard and Stanford, with endowments of $53 billion and $38 billion respectively, have signaled spending reductions or implemented hiring freezes.
The major private universities with sizeable endowments—Harvard, Yale, Stanford, Princeton, and M.I.T.—are best positioned to take action. These endowments, each exceeding $20 billion, have significantly grown over the last four decades, outpacing enrollment increases. Most of these schools spend below 5% of their endowments annually. If they won’t utilize their resources to uphold their educational missions, then what is their wealth for?
Some universities cite intergenerational equity—maintaining endowments to benefit future generations—as a reason to restrict current spending. But in today’s climate, that notion proves faulty. If these institutions fail to protect free expression and scientific exploration now, future generations may find these ideals irretrievably lost.
The situation is serious enough that those who prize free inquiry and academic freedom must demand that university presidents and trustees act decisively. University leaders may worry about alarming major donors by tapping into their endowments—and they might be right. Even previously liberal billionaires have sought compromises with Trump to avoid his wrath. Other benefactors might demand that their alma maters reassess what they perceive as excessive campus openness and inclusivity. Yet, university champions should embrace critical review and reform, but never at the behest of a sitting president. Students, faculty, and alumni must pressure their institutions to prioritize their foundational missions over political concessions.
Public universities, particularly those with smaller endowments, could collaborate with state authorities to secure backup funding. Already, 22 Democratic attorneys general across states from California to North Carolina have partnered with universities in legal actions to counter Trump’s funding cuts.
Though state budgets are under strain from a shaky economy and other federal cutbacks, wealth and progressive states bear significant responsibility. They possess the means to resist authoritarian advancements. Large, conserved endowments are poised to shoulder the defense—essential for everyone’s benefit.
