Donald Trump didn’t need to understand pedagogy, curriculum theory, or student development to begin reshaping American education. He only needed to understand one thing: most educational leaders lack courage and savvy.
That’s the real hack. Trump recognized that superintendents, college presidents, school boards, and state commissioners—many of whom were trained and hired in an era of institutional stability and political neutrality—would not be prepared for the ideological firestorm he was about to unleash. They were conditioned to seek consensus, avoid controversy, and defer to political power, not challenge it. In Trump’s America, that posture isn’t just outdated. It’s dangerous.
While Trump and his allies wage a full-throttle political war on curriculum, DEI, tenure, academic freedom, and the very idea of public education, many educational leaders are still issuing innocuous statements, hiding behind bureaucratic process, and refusing to sign onto mutual defense alliances. In the face of book bans, gag orders, funding threats, and witch hunts against educators who dare to teach the truth, too many remain silent—or worse, compliant. They think that neutrality will save their institutions. What they don’t realize is that neutrality, in this moment, is complicity.
Let’s be honest: these leaders were not selected for this fight. Many were hired during more technocratic times, when the biggest concerns were enrollment numbers, endowment performance, and strategic plans with color-coded dashboards. But today’s political terrain is not neutral. It’s not safe. And it’s not about metrics—it’s about values. It’s about whether public education will remain a place for truth, inclusion, and democracy—or become a pipeline for state-sanctioned indoctrination.
Trump knew that many of our current education leaders would cave. He bet that if he came for international students, few presidents would push back. He bet that if he labeled Black history as “divisive,” few superintendents would defend the truth. He bet that if he suspended funding to elite universities, most would go quiet. He was right—again and again. And every time, the silence was deafening.
But there are exceptions—leaders who have chosen courage over compliance.
At Harvard University, President Alan Garber faced an unprecedented ultimatum: comply with the Trump administration’s demands to overhaul university policies—including dismantling DEI programs, altering admissions criteria, cancelling academic programs, opressing faculty, and suppressing student activism—or risk losing billions in federal funding. Garber stood firm, asserting that such demands infringed upon the university’s constitutional rights and academic freedom. He emphasized that no government should dictate the academic decisions of a private institution. In response, the administration froze over $2.2 billion in grants, but Garber’s unwavering stance sent a powerful message about the importance of institutional autonomy and the defense of academic principles.
Similarly, Princeton University’s President Christopher Eisgruber confronted federal pressures head-on. When the Trump administration halted funding from agencies such as the Department of Energy, NASA, and the Defense Department, Eisgruber reaffirmed the university’s commitment to its values and principles. He emphasized that Princeton would not make concessions to the federal government in an effort to reverse the funding decisions. Eisgruber’s stance underscored the university’s dedication to academic freedom and its resistance to external political pressures.
Additionally, a courageous wave of resistance rose from hundreds of college and university leaders across the country. In a bold collective statement, leaders from public and private institutions—from Columbia to UC Riverside to Howard University—signed an open letter condemning the unprecedented government overreach and political interference that the Trump administration has unleashed on higher education. These presidents and chancellors stood together to defend academic freedom, student rights, and institutional autonomy, warning that the price of surrender would be paid by our democracy itself. Their call for “constructive engagement” was not just a polite critique—it was an urgent defense of education as a cornerstone of democracy.
These leaders exemplify the kind of courage our educational institutions desperately need. They understand that in times of political turmoil, neutrality is not an option. Their actions demonstrate a commitment to the foundational values of higher education: truth, inclusion, and the free exchange of ideas.
The question remains: Will more leaders rise to meet this moment with the courage it demands? For example, there are two “Western” universities that have signed (Western Washington University and California Western School of Law), but not my own institution Western Michigan University.
It is time for a different kind of leadership.
We need presidents, chancellors, deans, superintendents, and commissioners who understand that their job is not to keep the peace and bow to a golden statue—it is to stand in the breach. We need educational leaders who are unapologetically pro-democracy, pro-truth, and pro-student. We need leaders who will not blink when threatened by donors, lawmakers, or partisan mobs. We need those who understand that education is not neutral, and never has been. Every curriculum is a choice. Every silence is a signal.
This is not a call for chaos. It is a call for conscience. Our democracy is at stake, and education is the battleground. If we continue to staff our institutions with leaders who prioritize comfort over courage, then we have already surrendered. If we continue to hire “managers” instead of “movement leaders,” then those seeking to limit the freedom to learn don’t need to win elections—they’ve already won the war for the soul of our schools.
The next wave of leadership must be different. We must recruit and support those who are bold, principled, and deeply committed to equity and justice. Leaders who will call out authoritarianism for what it is. Leaders who will not “both-sides” racism, censorship, or political intimidation. Leaders who will protect students, faculty, and the truth—even when it costs them.
History is watching. And future generations will ask not just what happened to American education—but who stood up to defend it. Let’s make sure we can say: we did. With courage.
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