The Great Dismantling

Richard D. Kahlenberg's new opinion piece examines a Progressive Policy Institute report that asks an uncomfortable question: has American Studies become so ideologically insular that it's alienating students, the public, and even potential allies within the academy?

The critique from the center-left hits differently than attacks from the right. When a progressive think tank argues that a discipline has become "rigid" and "self-referential," it signals something more than partisan warfare. It suggests that internal intellectual diversity—long claimed as a core academic value—may have eroded.

For American Studies faculty watching programs shrink and tenure lines disappear, abstract debates about intellectual diversity feel almost quaint. The more immediate question: in an environment where entire departments are being eliminated, does methodological self-examination help or simply add another shovel to the grave-digging?

The Department of Education officially withdrew its final appeal regarding the "Dear Colleague" letter—the Biden-era guidance that had attempted to preserve some space for race-conscious practices after the Supreme Court's affirmative action ruling. The legal battle is over. The dismantlers won.

The letter had been a lifeline, however tenuous. It offered institutions cover to continue considering race in limited, carefully structured ways. Its abandonment doesn't just end that guidance—it signals that the federal government has no interest in defending institutions that pursue diversity through any means the administration deems suspect.

University counsel offices are recalibrating. The question is no longer "what can we defend in court?" but "what will draw federal attention at all?" Some institutions will quietly continue race-aware practices under different names. Others will retreat entirely. The chilling effect was always the point.

The conversation about AI in higher education has shifted. It's no longer about whether professors should allow ChatGPT on assignments. It's about whether institutions can function without AI embedded in their core operations—admissions screening, academic advising, "at-risk" student tracking, financial aid processing.

The shift happened quietly. While faculty debated academic integrity, administrators were signing contracts with vendors promising "scalable student success solutions." At-risk tracking systems now flag students based on patterns invisible to human advisors—and often unexplainable to the students themselves.

The irony is thick: the same faculty who can't agree on AI policies for a single course have already lost the institutional battle. AI isn't waiting for faculty governance. It's already advising students, processing applications, and deciding who gets flagged for intervention.

Two major Republican-led states have initiated pauses on H-1B visa sponsorships for new employees at public universities. Florida's Board of Governors voted to freeze such hirings for a year. Texas Governor Greg Abbott ordered a similar halt until the legislature meets in 2027.

The stated rationale is "America First" employment policy—prioritizing domestic workers for scarce academic positions. The practical effect is immediate chaos in search committees. Departments mid-search are scrambling to figure out which candidates are suddenly ineligible. International scholars who've been building careers at these institutions are wondering if they have futures there.

Research universities are particularly exposed. STEM departments at Texas A&M, UT-Austin, Florida, and Florida State have built world-class programs partly by recruiting international talent. That pipeline just got cut. The scholars will go elsewhere—to California, to Massachusetts, to Canada, to Europe. The research capacity won't be replaced by domestic hiring alone.

Other states are watching. If Texas and Florida face no political backlash, expect the model to spread.

Texas A&M University has announced the elimination of its Women's and Gender Studies degree program, following new state policies restricting the advocacy of "race and gender ideology" at public institutions. It's one of the first—and most prominent—examples of a major flagship university dissolving an established academic department in direct response to anti-DEI legislation.

The program's faculty are being "redistributed" to other departments. Current majors can complete their degrees, but no new students will be admitted. The library holdings, the course catalog, the accumulated intellectual infrastructure of decades—all of it will scatter or disappear.

"We're not being fired. We're being erased. There's a difference, and it's worse."
— Anonymous faculty member

The precedent matters more than this single program. If Texas A&M can eliminate Gender Studies without significant political cost, what stops other states from targeting African American Studies, Ethnic Studies, or any discipline that examines power, identity, and inequality? The answer, increasingly, is: nothing.

Faculty in targeted disciplines at public universities face an impossible calculation. Stay and fight, knowing the institution may not survive to protect you? Or leave for private universities or other states, draining the very expertise these states claim to be defending against "indoctrination"?

Amidst fears of federal research budget cuts, the National Science Foundation announced major awards to institutions like Cal State LA specifically targeting undergraduate success in STEM fields. The grants focus on practical interventions—pre-calculus support, peer tutoring, pathway programs—rather than blue-sky research.

Read the tea leaves carefully. When federal agencies prioritize "student success" and "workforce readiness" over pure research, it signals a reorientation of what counts as worthy science funding. The grants that survive budget scrutiny are the ones that produce measurable employment outcomes, not the ones that advance fundamental knowledge.

For faculty at research institutions, the message is clear: fundable science increasingly means applied science with clear workforce implications. Basic research—the kind that produced mRNA vaccines, GPS, and the internet—may have to find other patrons. The NSF's pivot isn't subtle. It's survival.