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Showing posts with label governance of knowledge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label governance of knowledge. Show all posts

Monday, September 14, 2026

Turning Civil Rights Against Civil Rights: Compact 2.0 and the New IRS Threat to Higher Education, by Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D. Sept. 14, 2026

Turning Civil Rights Against Civil Rights: Compact 2.0 and the New IRS Threat to Higher Education

by 

Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.

September 14, 2026

In 1983, the Supreme Court decided by a vote of 8 to 1 that Bob Jones University could not hold a federal tax exemption while prohibiting interracial dating and marriage among its students. The reasoning was compact enough to state in a sentence: An institution may not claim a public subsidy while maintaining a policy that violates a fundamental public policy of the United States.

On September 3, 2026, the Treasury Department and the IRS proposed a rule that keeps that sentence intact and changes what it points at.

Under the proposal, a private school would lose its exempt status under section 501(c)(3) if it "adopts, maintains, or enforces a policy or practice that discriminates on the basis of race, color, or national or ethnic origin"—in admissions, scholarships, financial aid, athletics, facilities, or any other school-supported program. 

In the interest of clarity, the new IRS proposal concerns private, tax-exempt colleges and universities and not public institutions such as UT Austin. 

It thusly makes 501(c)(3) tax-exempt private college or university status contingent on a new interpretation of racial nondiscrimination that could affect admissions, scholarships, financial aid, and other race-conscious programs at private institutions. The IRS estimates that as many as 18,000 private educational institutions could be affected (Internal Revenue Service [IRS], 2026).

A rule against racial exclusion has become a rule against race-conscious inclusion. The doctrine built to keep a segregated university from drawing on the public purse is now aimed at universities trying to widen who gets in.

The hinge is the word "fundamental"

The Bob Jones holding depended on a prior determination: That opposition to racial discrimination in education was a fundamental public policy, settled, national, and not seriously contested. Justice Powell, concurring separately, was uneasy about precisely this. He worried about an arrangement in which the IRS decides which policies are fundamental without clear direction from Congress.

That concern has aged into the present tense. Whoever supplies the content of "fundamental public policy" controls the exemption. In 1983 the content came from Brown, from the Civil Rights Act, from two decades of national struggle. In 2026 the content comes from an administration that reads Students for Fair Admissions as having settled not just what universities may do in admissions but what the nation fundamentally believes about race.

The image we are invited to see here is the ouroboros—the serpent swallowing its own tail, the civil rights movement's own logic arriving at last at its conclusion, the circle closing itself. That is the entire argument for colorblindness compressed into a picture, and it is a seductive one, because it asks us to understand what is happening as completion rather than reversal. 

But an ouroboros is a closed system. The snake acts on itself. This circle, however, is not closed at all; someone reached in and intervened. The doctrine did not turn on itself: It was turned, by an administration that did not write it, did not win it, and does not share its purpose.

The proposal would delete sections 3.02 and 4.05 of Revenue Procedure 75-50 and modify Revenue Ruling 71-447—the provisions that, for half a century, allowed schools to run programs favoring racial minority groups where the purpose was to create or maintain a racially nondiscriminatory educational environment. Schools may still consider income, geography, first-generation status, individual hardship, military-family status, or academic achievement. What they may not do is act on race, color, or national or ethnic origin.

So a university rule forbidding interracial relationships and a scholarship intended to increase the number of Black physicians are to be treated as the same kind of thing, because both notice race. One was built to preserve separation. The other exists because separation worked. Collapsing them requires ignoring purpose, history, and effect—which is to say, requires ignoring everything that made the original rule make sense.

Comments are due November 3, 2026. The regulations would apply to taxable years beginning after May 31, 2027. And in a dispute, the school would carry the burden of establishing its own compliance.

That last detail deserves more attention than it has received. Burden-shifting is not an administrative technicality: It is the mechanism by which a proposed rule starts operating before it exists.

The part nobody is discussing: national origin

Source: HACU
The proposal does not stop at race. It reaches national or ethnic origin, and that distinction has barely registered in the coverage.

In 2024-25, there were 645 Hispanic-Serving Institutions in the United States, enrolling 68.2 % of all Hispanic undergraduates. Roughly 200 of them are private (Hispanic Association of Colleges and Universities [HACU], 2026). The private nonprofits among those are 501(c)(3) organizations, and the rule reaches them directly.

I want to be careful here, because the precise claim matters. HSI status is not a preference. It is a federal designation based on enrollment composition—an institution qualifies at 25 percent Hispanic undergraduate full-time-equivalent enrollment. My own institution, the University of Texas at Austin, is an HSI. The IRS proposal targets what a school does, not what its enrollment happens to look like.

But consider what HSIs actually build: recruitment pipelines into predominantly Latino high schools; scholarship funds established by donors for students of Mexican American or Puerto Rican descent; bilingual advising; culturally sustaining curricula; mentoring programs; and summer bridge initiatives—many of them described, funded, and evaluated in explicitly ethnic terms because that is what they were designed to address. These are "school-supported programs." Under the proposed language, the relevant question becomes whether a private institution can defend each of them without reference to national origin.

And this is not the only pressure point. In June 2025, the State of Tennessee and Students for Fair Admissions sued the Department of Education over Title V grants to HSIs, arguing the 25 percent threshold is unconstitutional. The Department declined to defend the statutory provisions establishing the programs. Two of the three challenged Title V programs have since been defunded, and the case remains pending in the Eastern District of Tennessee (Meltzer Center, 2026).

Two tracks, then. One through the tax code, one through the grant programs. Neither requires Congress to pass anything.

Where Compact 2.0 comes in

The original Compact for Academic Excellence in Higher Education, circulated October 1, 2025, opened by naming what institutions receive from the federal government: "(i) access to student loans, grant programs, and federal contracts; (ii) funding for research directly or indirectly; (iii) approval of student and other visas in connection with university matriculation and instruction; and (iv) preferential treatment under the tax code." Institutions remained free to develop other models, the document said, "if the institution elects to forego federal benefits" (Trump administration, 2025).

Eleven months later, the fourth item has a proposed mechanism.

I am not claiming these are the same initiative or that they were coordinated. The IRS proposal has its own legal rationale and its own administrative track. What I am saying is narrower and, I think, harder to dismiss: an inventory of leverage was published, and we are now watching items on that inventory acquire operational form.

Against that backdrop, read Secretary McMahon's August 3 letter. It asks institutions to publish, by the end of 2026, a clear public statement of commitment across seven areas—admissions transparency, free speech, intellectual pluralism, affordability, academic rigor in the age of AI, research security, and American workforce priorities (U.S. Department of Education, 2026). University leaders were reportedly told there would be "no carrots and no sticks," even as a Department official described the goal as "radical reform" and suggested the government might prefer to work with institutions that share its priorities (Diep, 2026).

Francie Diep asked whether this is an olive branch or a gloved fist. I would suggest the distinction matters less than it appears. The letter arrives at boards that have just watched the fourth item on the Compact's list acquire a proposed rule. Whatever the letter intends, that is the room it is read in.

The governance of knowledge

This is what I mean when I talk about the governance of knowledge.

The state does not need to walk into a classroom and tell a professor what to teach. It instead adjusts the conditions under which knowledge-producing institutions survive, and lets the institutions do the rest. Three features make this work.

It aggregates the following: Research funding, Title IV aid, accreditation, visas, federal contracts, civil-rights enforcement, and tax status. Each of these is individually defensible, and each is litigated, analyzed, and debated on its own terms. But no provost experiences them one at a time. Legal analysis proceeds lever by lever. Governance is felt as a weight, anchored in accumulated experience—in what these institutions have already watched happen to others.

It anticipates. The comment period is open. The rule would not apply until taxable years beginning after May 31, 2027. Yet the scholarship reviews are happening now, in general counsel offices, this fall. When the burden of proof sits with the institution, preemptive retreat is not cowardice—it is the rational response to uncertainty. 

The chilling effect is not a side effect of the policy. Under these conditions it is the policy, and it operates whether or not the rule is ever finalized.

It launders attribution. Because the university acts, the university is the actor of record. No one is ordered to close a program. The program simply becomes too risky to defend, and its closing appears in the minutes as institutional prudence. This is what makes the arrangement so difficult to contest politically. There is no defendant. There is only a series of ostensibly reasonable decisions made by people trying to protect their institutions.

None of this means federal oversight is illegitimate. Universities that accept public benefits are properly subject to law and to public accountability, and there are real questions about admissions, cost, and governance that higher education has been slow to answer for itself.

But there is a difference between the government enforcing a rule and the government making certain commitments feel too expensive to hold. The first is accountable. The second is practically invisible.

The public policy doctrine was built to stop an institution from claiming public support while practicing exclusion. If that same doctrine can be turned around to stop an institution from widening access, then it was never a protection. It was an instrument, and it belongs to whoever holds the pen.

That is bigger than DEI. It is a question about who governs knowledge in the United States, and by what means—and about whether the answer is now determined less by law than by the accumulated weight of what universities decide they can no longer afford to defend.

References

Diep, F. (2026, August 3). For higher ed, Trump's Compact 2.0 is either an olive branch or a gloved fist. The Chronicle of Higher Education. https://www.chronicle.com/article/for-higher-ed-trumps-compact-2-0-is-either-an-olive-branch-or-a-gloved-fist

Duehren, A., & Bender, M. C. (2026, September 3). Trump moves to strip tax exemption from schools that aid minority students. The New York Times. https://www.seattletimes.com/nation-world/nation-politics/trump-moves-to-strip-tax-exemption-from-schools-that-aid-minority-students/

Hispanic Association of Colleges and Universities. (2026). Hispanic-Serving Institutions across the nation total 645. https://hacu.net/hispanic-serving-institutions-across-the-nation-total-645/

Internal Revenue Service. (2026, September 3). Treasury, IRS move to end tax-exempt status for discriminatory practices in private schools (IR-2026-103). https://www.irs.gov/newsroom/treasury-irs-move-to-end-tax-exempt-status-for-discriminatory-practices-in-private-schools

Meltzer Center for Diversity, Inclusion, and Belonging. (2026). State of Tennessee et al. v. United States Department of Education et al. Advancing DEI Litigation Tracker, New York University School of Law. https://advancingdei.meltzercenter.org/cases/state-of-tennessee-et-al-v-united-states-department-of-education-et-al-district/

Trump administration. (2025, October 1). Compact for Academic Excellence in Higher Education. https://www.washingtonexaminer.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/10/Compact-for-Academic-Excellence-in-Higher-Education-10.1.pdf

U.S. Department of Education. (2026, August 3). U.S. Secretary of Education Linda McMahon issues national call to action to university presidents and governing boards. https://www.ed.gov/about/news/press-release/us-secretary-of-education-linda-mcmahon-issues-national-call-action-university-presidents-and-governing-boards

U.S. Department of Education. (2026, August 3). A national call to action to university presidents and governing boards. https://www.ed.gov/media/document/national-call-action-university-presidents-and-governing-boards-114351.pdf

U.S. Department of the Treasury & Internal Revenue Service. (2026, September 4). Racial nondiscrimination in private schools. Federal Register, 91, 56811–56819. https://www.federalregister.gov/documents/2026/09/04/2026-18127/racial-nondiscrimination-in-private-schools

Monday, September 07, 2026

Follow the Trustees: ACTA and the Quiet Reengineering of American Higher Education, by Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.

Follow the Trustees: ACTA and the Quiet Reengineering of American Higher Education

by 

Angela Valenzuela, Ph.D.

September 7, 2026

Some of the most consequential changes taking place in American higher education are not the ones that make the biggest headlines. We tend to notice censorship, legislative restrictions on teaching, attacks on tenure, or the elimination of academic programs because these are highly visible. Yet universities can also be transformed much more quietly through changes in governance, funding, accreditation, presidential selection, program review, and decisions about which areas of study deserve institutional investment.

This quieter form of change deserves much more attention.

Historian Nancy MacLean helps us see why in her important AAUP report, The American Council of Trustees and Alumni: A Little-Known Driver of the Attacks on Academic Freedom and Shared Governance. Her focus is the American Council of Trustees and Alumni, or ACTA, an organization founded in 1995 that describes itself as an advocate for academic excellence, freedom, accountability, and responsible institutional governance.

MacLean (2025), however, asks us to look beyond those stated principles and examine how ACTA has sought to translate its ideas into institutional power. 

Central to that strategy are university governing boards. As she observes, ACTA has operated for decades on the premise that “Trustees are the key to changing public higher education” (p. 2).

That is worth sitting with.

Trustees certainly have legitimate responsibilities. Governing boards possess significant legal and fiduciary authority, and universities need responsible oversight. But universities are not ordinary corporations or state agencies. Their central work involves teaching, research, curriculum, peer review, and the creation and evaluation of knowledge. Those activities depend upon forms of disciplinary and professional expertise that trustees, legislators, donors, and administrators do not necessarily possess simply by virtue of holding institutional authority.

The AAUP recognized this distinction decades ago in its Statement on Government of Colleges and Universities. The statement affirms the authority of governing boards while also stressing the central role of faculty in academic matters. Particularly striking today is its expectation that boards exercise “appropriate self-limitation” (American Association of University Professors [AAUP], 1966).

I keep returning to that phrase, "appropriate self-limitation."

It expresses something increasingly important in contemporary higher education. Having the legal authority to intervene in an academic matter is not the same thing as having the intellectual or disciplinary expertise to make that decision wisely. A governing board may technically possess considerable power, but the health of a university depends in part on knowing when not to exercise it.

This is where the issue becomes larger than university governance itself. What we are witnessing is also a struggle over the governance of knowledge.

Decisions about governance determine far more than organizational charts. They affect which disciplines grow, which programs are consolidated, which faculty positions are created, which areas receive donor support, which curricular requirements students encounter, and which forms of scholarship are regarded as central—or marginal—to the mission of the university.

A university does not necessarily have to ban a book or prohibit a theory to reshape its intellectual landscape. It can accomplish a great deal through budgets, faculty lines, organizational restructuring, curricular requirements, presidential appointments, accreditation standards, and definitions of institutional “excellence.”

In this sense, governance decisions eventually become knowledge decisions.

One of the most useful aspects of MacLean’s report is that she does not treat ACTA as an isolated organization. She places it within a wider conservative policy infrastructure, including ACTA’s advisory role in Project 2025 and its relationship to the State Policy Network. As recently as summer 2026, SPN continued to identify ACTA among its national partners.

Source: Bennett, Guide for Progressives: Project 2025

Isaac Kamola’s (2024) research provides an important complement to MacLean’s analysis. Kamola documented 155 bills introduced between 2021 and 2023 that targeted various dimensions of academic freedom and university autonomy and traced many of them to a larger network of conservative and libertarian policy organizations.

This broader perspective matters because it suggests that we may be looking at contemporary attacks on higher education too narrowly when we examine each controversy separately. The story is not simply one governor, one legislature, one board of regents, or one university. What deserves examination is the policy ecosystem through which ideas, money, personnel, model legislation, donor priorities, institutional strategies, and governing philosophies circulate.

Ideas become much more powerful when they acquire institutions.

That brings us directly to Texas.

In March 2025, ACTA announced that the University of Texas at Austin’s School of Civic Leadership had joined its Oases of Excellence network. At first glance, that might seem like little more than recognition of an academic program ACTA admires. But ACTA describes its Oases initiative in considerably more ambitious terms. It encourages alumni and donors to support these programs as a means of changing university culture “from the inside.”

That language deserves attention, particularly given what has happened since.

On September 24, 2026, ACTA and UT Austin’s School of Civic Leadership are scheduled to jointly host an event on religious freedom. The gathering will feature ACTA’s National Commission on American History and Civic Education and introduce A Broadside for the Nation, an initiative calling upon colleges and universities to require undergraduate coursework in American history or government. School of Civic Leadership Dean Justin Dyer and ACTA president Michael Poliakoff are scheduled to introduce the program.

Event landing page.

None of this means that ACTA “controls” the School of Civic Leadership. The evidence does not support such a claim, and collaboration between a university and an outside organization should not automatically be treated as suspicious. After all, universities work routinely with foundations, professional associations, civic groups, think tanks, institutes, philanthropists, and advocacy organizations across the ideological spectrum.

But neither should the relationship go unnoticed.

What began as ACTA recognition of the School of Civic Leadership through its Oases network has developed into an active institutional relationship around civic education and curricular priorities. Given the broader political environment surrounding higher education in Texas, that relationship deserves public awareness and scrutiny.

The institutional context makes it all the more significant.

Recent Texas Tribune reporting found that the School of Civic Leadership and the Civitas Institute had, or were expected to have, 42 tenured or tenure-track faculty members by August 2026 "nearly triple the 15 positions lawmakers proposed requiring"—against the backdrop of it first Civics Honors cohort last year of 103 students (also see UT News, 2025). 

During roughly the same period, UT consolidated seven College of Liberal Arts departments, including Mexican American and Latino Studies, African and African Diaspora Studies, American Studies, and Women’s, Gender and Sexuality Studies, into two new academic units. Priest (2026) reported that some staff associated with these areas were terminated or reassigned, while finding no evidence of wholesale faculty dismissals.

I want to be careful here. The available evidence does not establish that the growth of the School of Civic Leadership caused the consolidation of Ethnic and Gender Studies. That causal claim would go beyond what we know.

But the juxtaposition raises a different and entirely legitimate question: What are UT Austin’s institutional priorities?

That question becomes especially important when we consider where substantial new investment is flowing.

A $10 million National Endowment for the Humanities grant supports 16 additional faculty positions connected to new Great Books and Strategy & Statecraft programs. The Great Books program emphasizes texts associated with Western civilization, while Strategy & Statecraft focuses on diplomatic and military history and preparation related to national security (University of Texas at Austin, 2026a).

An additional $12.5 million in philanthropic funding established the Ackerman Program on Jewish and Western Civilization and the Rosenthal-Levy Scholars program. Dean Dyer described this initiative as bringing Jewish civilization and modern Israel into the “core” of the school’s educational vision (University of Texas at Austin, 2026b). The School of Civic Leadership is also extending its reach beyond the university through a $1.8 million federal grant supporting three years of professional development for K–12 teachers in Austin, San Antonio, Dallas, Fort Worth, and Houston centered on what the school describes as the American civic tradition.

There is nothing inherently objectionable about Great Books, Western civilization, constitutional government, Jewish intellectual traditions, religious liberty, American political history, diplomacy, or statecraft. These are entirely legitimate fields of study, and a great university should be capable of supporting serious scholarship in all of them.

My concern is not their existence.

It is the asymmetry.

If intellectual pluralism is an important enough principle to justify substantial investment in programs centered on Western civilization, then intellectual pluralism must also protect Mexican American and Latino Studies. 

If interdisciplinarity justifies the establishment and rapid growth of a School of Civic Leadership, that same logic should apply to African American and African Diaspora Studies, Mexican American and Latino Studies, American Studies, and Women's Gender and Sexuality Studies.

And if academic freedom protects conservative intellectual inquiry—and it absolutely should—then it must protect with equal vigor scholarship examining racism, colonialism, gender, inequality, migration, empire, sexuality, and state power.

Otherwise, what we are defending is not academic freedom as a principle. We are defending academic freedom selectively, depending on which knowledge happens to be favored.

That is precisely why MacLean’s work is so useful. It encourages us to pay closer attention to governance itself. When trying to understand how higher education is being reshaped, we need to examine the following:

  • who sits on governing boards, 
  • how trustees are educated about their roles, 
  • how presidential searches are conducted, 
  • where donor money is flowing, 
  • how accreditation is being imagined and reimagined, and 
  • how supposedly neutral concepts such as “accountability,” “efficiency,” “consolidation,” “intellectual diversity,” “institutional neutrality,” “excellence,” and “civic education” become embedded in policy and institutional practice.

This is not conspiracy thinking. Quite the opposite. It is a call for careful empirical inquiry.

Words such as accountability and excellence are not inherently ideological. Neither are civic education or institutional neutrality. The question is what these concepts come to mean when they are translated into actual institutional decisions. Who benefits from a particular definition of excellence? Which programs gain resources? Which lose autonomy? What gets consolidated in the name of efficiency? Whose perspectives are recognized as evidence of viewpoint diversity? Who decides what counts as neutral?

Those are questions worth asking at any public university, regardless of the political orientation of the people involved.

Trustees, legislators, donors, presidents, faculty members, students, alumni, advocacy organizations, taxpayers, and citizens all have legitimate interests in public higher education. Public universities should be accountable to the societies that sustain them.

But accountability is not the same thing as political control over intellectual life.

That distinction is crucial.

What concerns me most is the possibility that authority is being redistributed in ways that increasingly allow some actors to determine which knowledge receives faculty lines, financial support, curricular standing, institutional legitimacy, and ultimately the opportunity to survive.

By the time a struggle over knowledge becomes publicly visible as the disappearance of a department or a controversy over curriculum, much of the consequential work may already have taken place elsewhere—in boardrooms, budgets, donor relationships, accreditation debates, organizational restructurings, presidential searches, and legislative networks.

That is perhaps MacLean’s most important lesson.

If we want to understand what is happening to higher education, we need to follow the governance.

And here in Texas, we have particularly good reason to do so.

Eyes wide open as the question I believe we should keep asking is a simple one as it reaches to the heart of the matter: Who is governing knowledge—and toward what end?

References

American Association of University Professors. (1966). Statement on government of colleges and universities. https://www.aaup.org/reports-publications/aaup-policies-reports/topical-reports/statement-government-colleges-and

American Council of Trustees and Alumni. (2025, March 12). Three programs join ACTA’s Oases of Excellence network, ACTA. https://www.goacta.org/2025/03/three-programs-join-actas-oases-of-excellence-network/

American Council of Trustees and Alumni. (2026). All possess alike liberty of conscience: Guarding our heritage of religious freedom. https://www.goacta.org/event/all-possess-alike-liberty-of-conscience/

Bennett, B. (2024, July 8). A Guide for Progressives on How to Brand Project 2025. https://navigatorresearch.org/a-guide-for-progressives-on-how-to-brand-project-2025/

Kamola, I. (2024). Manufacturing backlash: Right-wing think tanks and legislative attacks on higher education, 2021–2023. American Association of University Professors. [pdf]

MacLean, N. (2025, February 25). The American Council of Trustees and Alumni: A little-known driver of the attacks on academic freedom and shared governance (Action Report No. 4). Center for the Defense of Academic Freedom, American Association of University Professors. https://www.aaup.org/sites/default/files/ActionReport4_ACTA.pdf

Priest, J. (2026, August 13). UT-Austin overhauling core classes but hasn’t detailed how new center relates to the courses. The Texas Tribune. https://www.kut.org/education/2026-08-14/ut-austin-overhauling-core-classes-but-hasnt-detailed-how-new-center-relates-to-the-courses

UT News. (2025, Sept. 22). School of Civic Leadership Welcomes First Cohort of Future Leaders. UT News. https://news.utexas.edu/2025/09/22/school-of-civic-leadership-welcomes-first-cohort-of-future-leaders/

University of Texas at Austin. (2025, May 8). Board of Regents invests $100 million in UT’s School of Civic Leadership. UT News. https://news.utexas.edu/2025/05/08/board-of-regents-invests-100-million-in-uts-school-of-civic-leadership/

University of Texas at Austin. (2026a, January 16). UT to launch new Strategy and Statecraft, Great Books majors with NEH grant. UT News. https://news.utexas.edu/2026/01/16/ut-to-launch-new-strategy-and-statecraft-great-books-majors-with-neh-grant/

University of Texas at Austin. (2026b, January 27). UT launches Ackerman Program on Jewish and Western Civilization, Rosenthal-Levy Scholars. UT News. https://news.utexas.edu/2026/01/27/ut-launches-ackerman-program-on-jewish-and-western-civilization-rosenthal-levy-scholars/