No U.S. president has ever laid siege to America’s colleges and universities as has Donald Trump in the first ten months of his second term. The success of his efforts to bend higher education to his will, however, is mixed. On the one hand, thanks to a submissive Republican Congress, he’s managed to cut billions in previously appropriated federal research dollars to universities. On the other, his attempts to force colleges to adopt conservative priorities in hiring and curricula have so far mostly failed. While a few institutions, like Columbia University, initially bowed to political pressure, the vast majority have resisted—bolstered by court rulings that his retributive funding cuts unconstitutionally violated the First Amendment, separation of powers, and various federal statutes. Still, Trump has three-plus more years in office to experiment with ways to dominate higher ed and it’s not clear how long universities can continue to resist.
If Trump’s actions have no precedent at the federal level, they do at the state. Over the course of two terms as Florida governor, Ron DeSantis has taken on that state’s public higher education system in ways that presaged Trump’s moves. Looking at the results of DeSantis’ experiment might provide clues to where Trump’s is headed.
As Chris Mullin wrote recently in the Washington Monthly, DeSantis exploited Florida’s unusually centralized system of higher-education governance to insert political control directly into the classroom—stacking boards, replacing presidents, and rewriting curricula. His boldest gamble has been a complete takeover and ideological makeover of New College of Florida, a small public liberal-arts college on Sarasota Bay known for its experimental pedagogy and progressive-left campus culture. Charging poor performance and ideological bias, DeSantis announced plans in early 2023 to transform the school into a “Hillsdale of the South”—a reference to the small, selective, conservative-leaning Michigan college that eschews government funds and focuses on teaching the classics. The governor appointed six new conservative trustees to New College, including activist Christopher Rufo, who then fired its President, Patricia Okker, and replaced her with former Florida House Speaker Richard Corcoran at more than double Okker’s salary. Within months, the new board abolished the gender studies program, dismissed faculty and administrators, created athletic teams, and secured tens of millions in state funding.
Two years later, the picture looks grim. New College’s four-year graduation rate has plummeted from 58.3 to 47.4 percent. The school’s U.S. News & World Report college ranking has fallen by nearly 60 spots, from 76th among national liberal-arts colleges in 2022 to 135th this year. Faculty and staff have fled, and students have followed them out the door. “It’s kind of like a Ponzi scheme,” one professor told Inside Higher Ed. “Students keep leaving, so they have to recruit bigger and bigger cohorts.” Spending at the college, meanwhile, has exploded. In Tallahassee, there is now open talk of either privatizing New College or shutting it down completely.
DeSantis’s justification for the takeover was that New College was an educational disaster—a failed experiment in left-wing academic culture. Though the school had its problems (it struggled, for instance, to reach its enrollment goals, as do many small, less-selective colleges around the country) and was indeed left leaning, it was far from a disaster. In fact, by most objective measures, it was a model of what a small public liberal-arts institution could achieve. As Aalia Thomas reported in the Washington Monthly in 2023, New College consistently ranked near the top of the magazine’s list of liberal arts colleges for upward mobility, research, and service. Its graduates earned PhDs at rates higher than many of the nation’s most prestigious private liberal arts colleges. Its curriculum mixed postcolonial theory with Aristotle and Voltaire. The college charged about $7,000 a year for low-to-medium-income students—a bargain compared to most similar liberal arts colleges. It enrolled a high share of Pell Grant recipients and produced civically engaged graduates—92.6 percent of its students were registered to vote in 2020. Far from failing, New College embodied many of the qualities conservatives say they prize in public higher education: affordability, rigor, civic virtue, and upward mobility.
The governor’s appointees arrived convinced they were rescuing a failing school. They replaced New College’s narrative-evaluation system with traditional grades. They bragged about making the college more “selective” (instead, the percentage of new students with a 4.0 or above high school grade point average decreased from 55.1 percent in 2022 to 42.1 percent in 2024). They recruited athletes and self-described “normal” students to reshape the culture, many of whom quickly transferred out. The campus began to change in telling ways: the reopened campus café, operated by a vendor tied to Corcoran, now serves coffee in cups printed with Bible verses, and the college has commissioned a statue of right-wing activist Charlie Kirk to stand on campus in honor of “free speech.” All this change has been financed by an eye-watering boost in spending. The college’s budget has grown from $53,232,164 the year before the overhaul to $93,043,119 today—a 75 percent increase.
Even DeSantis allies are turning on the project. “There can be no question anymore about what the numbers really are,” said Eric Silagy, a DeSantis-appointed member of the state Board of Governors. Nathan Allen, who served as vice president of strategy for New College during the conservative takeover but has since resigned, suggested where the blame for those numbers should be placed: “New College is not a House or Senate project … It’s a Ron DeSantis project.” Corcoran himself has said, if New College doesn’t produce something different, “then we should be closed down.”
“There is certainly room for improvement at New College,” the Washington Monthly reported in 2023. “But there is a lot more room to make the college worse, and plenty of reason to think that’s what the DeSantis administration will accomplish.”
Those words proved prophetic and might well apply to Trump’s national crusade to remake universities. Just as DeSantis’s Florida experiment has collapsed under its own contradictions, so might Trump’s. Politics can seize a campus, but it can’t run one.
