Tag: education

Nearly four months after he was terminated for reposting a news headline that quoted the late conservative commentator Charlie Kirk’s position on gun rights, Darren Michael has been reinstated as a professor of theater at Austin Peay State University, Clarksville Now reported. 

Michael returned to the classroom in late December. The university will also pay him $500,000 and reimburse therapeutic counseling services as part of the settlement.

“APSU agrees to issue a statement acknowledging regret for not following the tenure termination process in connection with the Dispute,” the settlement agreement reads in part. “The statement will be distributed via email through APSU’s reasonable communication channels to faculty, staff, and students.”

Shortly after Kirk was shot and killed at a campus event in September, Michael shared a screenshot of a 2023 Newsweek headline on his personal social media account that read, “Charlie Kirk Says Gun Deaths ‘Unfortunately’ Worth it to Keep 2nd Amendment.” His repost was picked up by conservative social media accounts, and his personally identifying information was distributed. It also caught the attention of Tennessee Sen. Marsha Blackburn, who shared Michael’s post alongside his headshot and bio with the line “What do you say, @austinpeay?” Michael was terminated Sept. 12. 

Michael did not respond to a request for comment Wednesday. A spokesperson for Austin Peay State declined to comment.

Amherst College, where I teach, recently changed the designation of its senior administrators, who were formerly called “chiefs,” as in chief financial officer, to “vice presidents.” We now have 10 of them, as well as 15 other individuals who hold titles such as senior associate, associate or assistant vice president.

Not too long ago, in the time before they became chiefs, our VPs would have been called deans, directors or, in the case of our chief financial officer, treasurer. (Indeed, some retain a dean title along with their vice presidential one—the vice president of student affairs and dean of students, or the vice president and dean of admission and financial aid.) I respect and value the work that they do, regardless of their title. I know them and am aware of their dedication to the college and the well-being of its students, faculty and staff.

But, for a small, liberal arts college that has long been proud to go its own way in many things, including in its idiosyncratic administrative titles, that’s a lot of vice presidents and associate and assistant VPs.

Today, many of America’s colleges and universities are grappling with the issue of grade inflation. They are coming to terms with the fact that if everyone gets an A, as Christopher Schorr argues, “grading becomes a farce.” At the same time that grades have become inflated, another kind of inflation has affected our campuses.

I call it the “vice presidentialization” of higher education.

That trend is a sign of a shift in power from faculty to administrators, who are focused on protecting and managing their college’s brand. It is another sign of the growing administrative sector in American colleges and universities.

Titles matter.

For example, the title “dean of students” suggests a job that is student-facing, working closely with students to maximize their educational experience. The title of “vice president for student affairs” suggests something different, a role more institution-facing, dealing with policy, not people.

Mark J. Drozdowski, a commentator on higher education, put it this way more than a decade ago: “Higher ed, as the casual observer might divine, is awash in titles.” He observes that for faculty, “The longer the faculty title, the more clout it conveys … Yet among administrators, the opposite holds true: president beats vice president, which in turn beats assistant vice president, which thoroughly trounces assistant to the assistant vice president.”

“We’ve grown entitled to our titles,” Drozdowski continues. They “bring luster to our resumes and fill us with a sense of pride and purpose … Titles confer worth, or perhaps validate it. They have become a form of currency. They define our existence.”

What was true when Drozdowski wrote it is even more true today. Administrative titles may “confer worth” on the individuals who hold them, but higher ed will not prosper if administrative titles define its worth.

The multiplication of vice presidents and title inflation mark an embrace of hierarchy on the campuses where it happens. They may also signify and propel a division between those who see themselves as responsible for the fate of an institution and those who do the day-to-day work of teaching and learning.

What was once designated a “two cultures” problem to explain the divide between humanists and scientists now may describe a divide between the cadre of vice presidents and the faculty, staff and students on college campuses.

Having someone serve in the position of vice president at a college or university is not new, although the growth in the number of vice presidents at individual colleges and universities is. In fact, the role can be traced back to the late 18th century, when Princeton’s Samuel Stanhope Smith (son-in-law of the university president) became what the historian Alexander Leitch calls “the first vice president in the usual sense.” His primary duty was to step in when the president was unavailable. Yet, as Jana Nidiffer and Timothy Reese Cain note in their study of early vice presidencies, the position was not “continuously filled” at Princeton after that: After 1854, they write, “the role remained unfilled for almost thirty years and the title disappeared for more than a half-century.”

Today, having a single vice president—or having none at all—seems almost unimaginable across the landscape of higher ed. Harvard University, for example, now lists 14 people as vice presidents in addition to the 15 deans of its schools and institutes. The University of Southern California has 13 vice presidents on its senior leadership team. Yale University lists nine vice presidents, as does Ohio State University. Emory University lists eight, and Rutgers University seven.

The number of vice presidents at liberal arts colleges also varies significantly. Middlebury College has eleven. Dickinson College has nine, Kenyon College seven, Whitman College six, Goucher College six, Williams College three.

And don’t forget Amherst’s 10 VPs.

Those figures suggest that the number of vice presidents a place has is not simply a function of its size or complexity. The proliferation of vice presidents is driven, in part, by the desire of colleges and universities to make their governance structures legible to the outside world, and especially the business world, where having multiple vice presidents on the organization chart is standard operating procedure.

And once one institution of higher education adopts the title of vice president for its administrative officers, others are drawn to follow suit, wanting to ensure that their leadership structures are mutually legible. The growth of vice presidencies may also help propel career mobility. How can a mere dean compete with vice presidents for a college presidency?

More than a century ago, the distinguished economist and sociologist Thorstein Veblen warned that “standards of organization, control and achievement, that have been accepted as an habitual matter of course in the conduct of business will, by force of habit, in good part reassert themselves as indispensable and conclusive in the conduct of the affairs of learning.” His response was to argue that “as seen from the point of view of the higher learning, the academic executive and all his works are anathema, and should be discontinued by the simple expedient of wiping him off the slate.”

That is not my view. However, we have a lot to learn from Veblen.

It would be a mistake for faculty and others who may be accustomed to the way things are done in banking or in other businesses to overlook the impact of the proliferation of academic executives on campus culture. It will take hard work and vigilance to make sure that the cadres of vice presidents on campuses govern modestly and that vice presidents don’t become local potentates.

To achieve this, colleges must insist that their VPs stay close to the academic mission of the places where they work. This requires that we not allow our vice presidents to accrue privileges foreign to the people they lead and not escape from the daily frustrations that faculty and staff experience working in places where emails are not answered and nothing can get done without filling out a Google form.

It may be helpful if our vice presidents leave their offices and interact with faculty and students on a regular basis. They should sit in on classes, visit labs and studios, and occasionally answer their own phones.

Ultimately, even places like Amherst may be able to live with our own vice presidentialization—so long as those who have the title don’t take it too seriously and never forget that the business of education is not a business.

Done! Finished!

One might expect to hear such exclamations from exultant college students, relieved or ready to rejoice upon polishing off their latest essay assignment. Instead, these are the words I hear with increasing frequency from fellow professors who have come to think that the out-of-class essay itself is now done. It’s an antiquated assignment, some say. An outmoded form of pedagogy. A forlorn fossil of the Writing Age, a new coinage that seems all too ready to consign writing instruction to extinction.

As a new director of my college’s faculty development office, I’m privy to ongoing conversations about the teaching of writing, many of which are marked by frustration, perplexity and pessimism. “I don’t want to read a machine’s writing,” one professor laments. “I don’t want to police student essay writing for AI use,” another asserts.

Kevin Roose, a tech writer for The New York Times, who recently visited my campus, has suggested that the take-home essay is obsolete, asking, “Why would you assign a take-home exam, or an essay on Jane Eyre, if everyone in class—except, perhaps, the most strait-laced rule followers—will use A.I. to finish it?”

Whether this situation is entirely new is arguable. For decades, we’ve had online resources that might make independent student reading unnecessary, yet we haven’t stopped assigning out-of-class reading. If I assign a rigorous novel like Charles Dickens’s Bleak House, I’ve long known that students can access an assortment of chapter summaries online—CliffsNotes, SparkNotes, LitCharts and others, all of which might make unnecessary the intellectual work of deciphering Dickens’s 19th-century sentences or wading into the deep waters of his sometimes murky prose. Maybe, as a recent New York Times piece about Harvard University students not doing their reading suggests, students aren’t doing that kind of homework, either.

Still, being able to create sentences, paragraphs, essays and research papers with a single prompt—or now, having “agentic AI” engineer an entire research process in a matter of minutes—seems different from googling the plot summary for the first chapter of Bleak House.

Maybe writing via LLMs is different because it’s not just about summarizing someone’s else’s idea; it’s about asking a machine to take the glimmer of one’s own half-hatched idea and turn it into a flawless, finished product. Somehow that process seems a little more magical, like being able to create a novel or a dissertation with a Bewitched-like twitch of the nose.

Further, the problems with out-of-class writing are different from those linked to out-of-class reading because of how embedded AI has become within the most basic writing tools—from Microsoft’s Copilot to Grammarly. With tools that blur the boundaries between the student and their “copilot,” students will increasingly have difficulty discerning what’s them and what’s the machine—to the chagrin of those who do want to develop autonomous intellectual skills. As high school senior Ashanty Rosario complained in an essay in The Atlantic about how AI is “demolishing my education,” AI tools have become “inescapable” and inescapably seductive, with shortcuts to learning becoming “normalized.”

In this world of ubiquitous AI shortcuts, how do we encourage students to take the scenic route? How do we help them see, as John Warner reminds us in More Than Words: How To Think About Writing in the Age of AI (Basic Books, 2025), that writing is an act of embodied thinking and a tool for forging human community, linking one human being to another? How do we encourage them, to use the language of Chad Hanson, to see their written assignments as “investments, not just in the creation of something to turn in on a deadline, but rather, investments in your humanity”? In an Inside Higher Ed essay, Hanson describes how he tells students, “When you give yourself time to use your faculties, you end up changing the dimensions of your mind.”

But there’s the rub. Writing takes time. Teaching writing takes time. The practice of writing takes even more time. If there is still value in the time invested in developing human writing skills, where is the time to be found within the constraints of traditional writing courses? Writing practice used to take place primarily at home, on student PCs and notepads, over hours, days and weeks. Now that student writing is being chronically offloaded to a magical deus ex machina, Roose asks why teachers wouldn’t simply “switch to proctored exams, blue-book essays, and in-class group work”?

As a writing professor, my answer is: There isn’t time.

Shifting writing practice from a largely out-of-class endeavor to an in-class one doesn’t provide students with the time needed to develop writerly skills or to use writing as a mode of deep thinking. Nor does it allow for both instruction and sufficient hands-on practice. At my college, courses typically run either three days per week for a short 50 minutes per class or two days per week for 80 minutes. Even in a “pure” writing course, such time periods don’t allow for students to have the sustained practice they would need to develop skill as writers. The problem is even worse in writing-intensive courses for which a significant amount of class time is needed for discussing literary history, philosophy, political theory, religion, art history or sundry other topics.

The solution I propose is to invest more rather than less in writing instruction: Just as we require labs for science lecture courses, we should provide required “writing labs” as adjuncts to writing classes. Here I don’t mean a writing lab in the sense of a writing center where students can opt to go for peer assistance. By writing lab, I mean a multihour, credit-bearing, required time during which students practice writing on a weekly basis under the supervision of the course’s instructor or another experienced writing teacher. Such labs would be time in which students develop their autonomous critical thinking skills, tackling assignments from conception to completion, “cloister[ed]” away, as Niall Ferguson puts it, from dependency on AI machines. And if writing “lab” sounds unduly scientific for the teaching of a human art, call it a weekly workshop or practicum. (Yet, even the word “laboratory” derives, via medieval Latin, from laborare, which simply means “to work or labor.”) Whatever the name, the need is real: Writing cannot be taught without student labor.

The problem I am addressing is a critical one, with too few alarms being sounded in higher education circles, despite the plethora of articles about education and AI. Even as colleges tout writing skill as a major outcome of college education, I fear that writing education may quickly fall between the cracks, with out-of-class writing being abandoned out of frustration or despair and insufficient in-class time available for the deep learning writing requires. Quiet quitting, let’s call it, of a long-standing writing pedagogy.

If colleges still wish to claim writing skill as an important learning outcome, they need to become more deliberate about what it means to educate student writers in the age of AI. Toward that end, colleges must first reassert the importance of learning to write and articulate its abiding value as a human endeavor. Second, colleges must devote professional development resources to prepare faculty to teach writing in the age of AI. And finally—here’s the pith of my argument—colleges need to restructure traditional models of writing instruction so that students have ample time to practice writing in the classroom, with a community of human peers and under the supervision of a writing guide. Only in, with and under those circumstances will students be able to rediscover writing as a true labor of love.

Lowering college costs, boosting accountability and reforming accreditation will likely be at the top of congressional Republicans’ to-do list for 2026. But as public approval ratings for President Trump continue to decline and midterm elections loom, higher education policy experts across the political spectrum say congressional conservatives could be running out of time.

The push for more affordable higher education has been gaining momentum for years, and while it was a common refrain at the committee level in 2025, complex and sweeping debates over tax dollars soaked up much of lawmakers’ attention.

First, the Republicans passed their signature piece of legislation, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, which cut taxes for wealthy individuals, increased them for elite universities and overhauled the student loan system. Then, they turned their attention to disagreements on the federal budget—an impasse that led to the record 43-day government shutdown.

But in the few cases where members of the GOP did get to home in on college cost issues, whether via legislation or hearings, an underlying theme emerged—holding colleges accountable for their students’ return on investment.

Higher education experts have no doubt that concern will continue in 2026, but Congress won’t have the time or the oxygen needed to nail down real changes unless they figure out how to fund the government, which runs out of money again Jan. 31.

“The Republican majority is very conscious that it may be on the clock, and this would argue for trying to move rapidly and get things done,” said Rick Hess, a senior fellow and director of education policy studies at the American Enterprise Institute, a right-leaning think tank. “But with the narrow and fractious House majority, the way the budget is going to chew up time going into January and the pressure on the Senate to get judges confirmed, it’s just going to be a challenge for them to find much time to move further higher ed–related legislation.”

Legislative Actions

Republicans spent much of 2025 using their control of Congress and the White House to pass what many industry leaders have described as the largest overhaul to higher education policy in more than a decade—the One Big Beautiful Bill Act. And while policy experts were initially skeptical that this multi-issue package could pass given the complex, restrictive nature of a legislative process called reconciliation, the GOP found a way.

The final bill, signed into law July 4, served as a major win for the GOP, expanding federal aid for low-income students to include nontraditional short-term training programs, limiting loans for graduate students, consolidating the number of repayment plans and increasing taxes on wealthy colleges, among other provisions.

Conservative policy experts like Hess praised the overhaul as “a much-needed and positive set of changes.”

“There’s certainly more that can be done, but I think it moved us in a substantially better direction than we’ve been,” he added.

But aside from OBBBA, little legislation concerning colleges and universities advanced. Only one bill tracked by Inside Higher Ed, the Laken Riley Act, reached the president’s desk. That law gave state attorneys general increased power over visas that could affect some international students and scholars. Others, including the Protection of Women and Girls in Sports Act, a bill that forbids trans women from participating in women’s sports, and the DETERRENT Act, a bill designed to restrict foreign academic partnerships, made it out of the House in a matter of weeks but then got stuck in the Senate.

The story of 2025 in higher ed is a big, dramatic one, but it’s almost entirely one of executive branch activity.”

—Rick Hess, AEI

So when asked what congressional accomplishments stood out from 2025, progressive policy experts told Inside Higher Ed they didn’t see much. The things that did happen, they added, hurt students and institutions more than they helped.

“‘Accomplishments’ is not really the word I would use considering the challenges that higher education faced this year,” said Jared Bass, senior vice president of education at the Center for American Progress. “I don’t think that Congress actually met the moment for affordability or defending and preserving higher education.”

Instead, he said, legislators placed the burden of cost on the backs of students.

“The Republican argument is by cutting access to these loans they’ll actually drive down costs. But we’ll have to wait and see if that happens,” he explained. “But I would say it didn’t actually make college more affordable. It just made resources less available.”

Hearings Highlight Priorities

Congress did, however, hold a number of higher ed–related hearings to dive into their priorities, which included improving the transparency of financial aid offers, establishing stronger records of the skills students gain and elevating ideological concerns like allegedly illegal use of diversity, equity and inclusion practices and liberal biases in the Truman Scholarship program.

Although the House Committee on Education and Workforce hosted a greater number of higher ed hearings, some of the more notable panels came from the Senate Health, Education, Labor and Pensions Committee.

“They actually wanted to put the ‘E’ back in HELP and focus on education issues,” said Emmanual Guillory, senior director of government relations at the American Council on Education, a leading higher ed lobbying group. “That wasn’t really the case under prior leadership. So that was good.”

Tom Williams/CQ–Roll Call Inc./Getty Images

Much of the shift in interest, Guillory added, was likely tied to new leadership. This was the first year that Sen. Bill Cassidy, a Louisiana Republican, held the gavel. In the last Congress, Cassidy had served as ranking member.

The House Committee on Education and Workforce also had new leadership, as Rep. Virginia Foxx of North Carolina handed the baton to Rep. Tim Walberg from Michigan. But it was the Senate’s tactics that led to more meaningful legislative progress in ACE’s view.

“Mr. Walberg may have pushed a slightly more aggressive agenda. The House definitely had more hearings in the higher ed space and tackled more hard-punching issues, but in the Senate they took a different approach,” Guillory said. “When it came to those difficult issues and conversations, the Senate chose to discuss those a bit more quietly and really work on solutions with stakeholder groups and ask, ‘How can we be influential with actual legislation?’”

Andrew Harnik/Getty Images

When asked for their reflections on the year, Cassidy and Walberg pointed to OBBBA, which they touted as a historic reform to drive down college costs and limit students from taking on insurmountable debt. But while Walberg then looked back to the ongoing antisemitism discussions and concerns about “hostile learning environments,” Cassidy touted his legislation aimed at helping students better understand the cost of college.

“College is one of the largest financial investments many Americans make, but there is little information to ensure students make the right decision,” he said. “That is why I introduced the College Transparency Act to empower families with better information so they can decide which schools and programs of study are best suited to fit their unique needs and desired outcomes.”

Democrats Fight Back

Meanwhile, Democrats in both chambers said they were forced to spend much of their time and attention maintaining the Department of Education, an agency they say is needed to do much of the work to fulfill Republicans’ priorities, be it addressing antisemitism and other civil rights issues or driving down college costs.

From his early days on the campaign trail in 2024, Trump has promised to dismantle the department, and starting in March of 2025, he began doing so—all without congressional approval.

First, the president laid off nearly half of the agency’s staff. Then, just a week later, he signed an executive order directing Education Secretary Linda McMahon to close down the department “to the maximum extent appropriate and permitted by law.”

Later, he tried to slash federal spending, redistribute grant dollars and use the government shutdown to lay off even more employees. Most recently, Trump approved a series of six interagency agreements that reallocate many of ED’s responsibilities to other agencies.

Through it all, the Democrats repeatedly decried his “attack” on higher ed. They used statements, town halls and demonstrations outside the department to draw attention to decisions they said would be “detrimental” to “students, teachers and educators.”

Katherine Knott/Inside Higher Ed

Rep. Bobby Scott, a Virginia Democrat and ranking member of the House education committee, said he has spent much of his year in defense mode, pushing back against each of these actions.

“The administration has been dismantling the Department of Education, making access to education much less available,” he said. “And we’ve been trying to keep it together.”

But both Scott and Sen. Patty Murray, a Washington Democrat and former educator, acknowledged that as members of the minority, they can only do so much. A few Republicans have joined them in voicing concern about specific issues, but not enough, they say.

“We’ve had some successes—forcing some funding to be restored and rejecting, for example, President Trump’s push to slash Pell Grants by half in our draft funding bill for the coming year—but ultimately, we need a whole lot more bipartisan outrage and pushback from Republicans to truly start to undo the sweeping damage Trump has already caused,” Murray said.

And it wasn’t just Democrats who raised concerns.

“Congress has done very little to ask important questions, to ask the executive branch to justify some of the actions it is taking,” said Hess from AEI. “Hill Republicans are very much marching in lockstep to what the White House asks. The story of 2025 in higher ed is a big, dramatic one, but it’s almost entirely one of executive branch activity.”

What’s Ahead in 2026?

Now that congressional Republicans have completed a number of the tasks they set for themselves back in January 2025, most experts say two remaining items—college cost and accreditation reform—will be top priorities in 2026.

Most sources Inside Higher Ed spoke with anticipated that college cost reduction and transparency would be addressed first, largely because related bills made it out of a House committee in December and senators held a hearing on the topic. The bills, which would standardize financial aid offers and create a universal net price calculator, have already gained some significant bipartisan support.

Meanwhile, many remain skeptical of Republicans’ proposals for accreditation. Although no exact legislative language has been released, GOP lawmakers and Trump officials at the Department of Education have called for a major overhaul to not only ensure better student outcomes but also to deconstruct a what they see as a systemic liberal bias.

“I would hope to see a focus on accreditors taking an active role and not just sort of a check-the-box approach to quality assurance,” said Carolyn Fast, director of higher education policy at the Century Foundation, a left-leaning think tank. “What I’m concerned about is some of the efforts to reform accreditation don’t seem necessarily as concerned about making sure that the system is working in terms of their role as gatekeepers of federal funds … but more about political and cultural war issues.”

Bass from CAP said that he will be keeping a close eye on the midterm election campaign trail for a pulse on higher ed policy in general this year, as it gives the public a chance to speak up and direct change.

“I’m curious to see how conversations about affordability play out, not just for higher education or education over all, but just for the country,” he said. “There are going to be over 30 gubernatorial races next year, and the debate gets shaped over key issues like higher education, like college costs, like affordability. So it will be very interesting to see how both parties are going to show up.”

With just over two weeks left in office, Republican Virginia attorney general Jason Miyares agreed with the federal Justice Department that a 2020 law granting in-state tuition to undocumented students is unconstitutional.

In a joint court filing, Miyares and lawyers for the Justice Department asked a federal judge to declare the Virginia Dream Act invalid and bar state authorities from enforcing it. If approved, the joint consent decree order would make Virginia the fourth state to scrap its policies that allow eligible undocumented students to pay the lower in-state tuition rate. The joint agreement came just one day after the Trump administration sued Virginia over its in-state tuition policies—the seventh such lawsuit.

In response to these challenges, some states have fought the Justice Department, while several Republican-led states quickly agreed to stop offering undocumented students in-state tuition. The rapid change in policies spurred confusion and chaos for students as they scrambled to find ways to pay for their education. Some advocacy groups have sought to join the lawsuits to challenge the Justice Department.

Miyares, who lost his re-election bid to Democrat Jay Jones in November, wrote on social media that it’s clear that the 2020 statute “is preempted by federal law.”

“Illegal immigrants cannot be given benefits that are not available to American citizens,” he wrote. “Rewarding noncitizens with the privilege of in-state tuition is wrong and only further incentivizes illegal immigration. I have always said I will call balls and strikes, and I am proud to play a part in ending this unlawful program.”

Trump lawyers argued in the Virginia lawsuit and elsewhere that such policies discriminate against U.S. citizens because out-of-state students aren’t eligible for in-state tuition. In Virginia, undocumented students can qualify for the reduced rate if they graduated from a state high school and if they or their parents filed Virginia income tax returns for at least two years before they enroll at a postsecondary institution.

Jones, the incoming Democratic attorney general, criticized the administration’s lawsuit as “an attack on our students and a deliberate attempt to beat the clock to prevent a new administration from defending them.” He added that his team is reviewing their legal options.

In the meantime, the Dream Project, a Virginia nonprofit that supports undocumented students, is seeking to intervene in the lawsuit and has asked the court to delay its consideration of the proposed order. An estimated 13,000 undocumented students were enrolled in Virginia colleges and universities in 2018, according to the filing.

The Dream Project argued in its filing that it and the students it serves would be harmed if the Virginia Dream Act is overturned and that the court should hear a defense of the law.

“The motion by the Trump administration was deliberately filed over a holiday in the dead of night without briefing, without public scrutiny, and without hearing from our scholars and families who would be impacted by this judgment,” Dream Project executive director Zuraya Tapia-Hadley said in a news release. “The state and federal administrations are attempting to re-legislate and set aside the will of the people. If we don’t intervene, that essentially opens the door for settled law to be thrown out with the wave of a pen via a judgment.”

Carl Tobias, a law professor at the University of Richmond, said he’s hopeful that the judge, Robert Payne, will grant the motion for intervention, noting that he “is a stickler for proper procedures.”

“There’s a basic premise that there should be two sides to every litigation, and there aren’t two sides in this litigation,” he said, adding that if the judge does approve the consent decree, the General Assembly could always put a law similar to the Virginia Dream Act back in place.

To Tobias, the legislation is constitutional and should withstand a legal challenge.

“This administration has a very different view of what the Constitution requires, so they can make their arguments,” he said. “But they shouldn’t be making them in a vacuum without hearing the other side.”

The National Institutes of Health is deciding, per court agreements, whether to award or deny droves of grant applications that the agency previously either rejected or shelved. This funding was stalled last year amid the Trump administration’s blunt moves to restrict research into certain disfavored topics, such as diversity, equity and inclusion—though researchers and state attorneys general said officials shot down a greater range of projects, including ones that could save lives.

The NIH’s agreements, laid out in court filings in two ongoing lawsuits, are already bearing fruit. A spokesperson for the Massachusetts attorney general’s office, which is leading one of the cases, said the agreement in that suit promises decisions on more than 5,000 grants nationally. On Dec. 29, the date of the agreement, the NIH issued 528 grant decisions, 499 of which were approvals, the spokesperson said.

A spokesperson for the American Civil Liberties Union, which is leading the other case, said the agreement in that case involves about 400 grants. He said the NIH awarded at least 135 out of 146 applications in a batch of decisions on Dec. 29.

The filings set a series of dates by which the NIH agreed to decide on awarding or denying other types of grants. The last deadline is July 31.

The agreements are another example of the Trump administration reversing many of its sweeping cuts to research funding in response to litigation. Researchers and organizations filed suit after suit last year after the NIH and other federal funding agencies abruptly terminated previously awarded grants and sat on applications for new ones.

In a news release, the ACLU said the grants that the NIH will now decide on “address urgent public health issues, including HIV prevention, Alzheimer’s disease, LGBTQ+ health, and sexual violence.” ACLU of Massachusetts legal director Jessie Rossman said in the release that the NIH’s “unprecedented” and “unlawful” actions put “many scientists’ careers in limbo, including hundreds of members of the American Public Health Association and the UAW union.”

ACLU lawyers are among the attorneys representing those groups, Ibis Reproductive Health and individual researchers in a suit they filed in April against the NIH and the larger Health and Human Services Department for stalling and rejecting grant funding. Democratic state attorneys general filed a similar suit in the same court, the U.S. District Court of Massachusetts.

The agencies agreed to decide these grant applications in exchange for the plaintiffs dismissing some of their claims. The agencies didn’t admit wrongdoing.

In a news release, the Massachusetts attorney general’s office said the Trump administration “indefinitely withheld issuing final decisions on applications that had already received approval from the relevant review panels,” leaving the states that sued “awaiting decisions on billions of dollars.”

The release said that, for example, when the suit was filed in April, the University of Massachusetts “had 353 applications for NIH funding whose review had been delayed, signifying millions in potential grant funding that would aid in lifesaving medical research.” Massachusetts attorney general Andrea Joy Campbell said in a statement that “lifesaving studies related to Alzheimer’s disease, cancer, and other devastating illnesses were frozen indefinitely—stealing hope from countless families across the country and putting lives at risk.”

It’s unclear how much money the NIH may dole out in total. An HHS spokesperson told Inside Higher Ed that the “NIH cannot comment on the status of individual grant applications or deliberations.”

“The agency remains committed to supporting rigorous, evidence-based research that advances the health of all Americans,” the spokesperson said. HHS and the NIH didn’t provide interviews or further comment.

Meanwhile, a legal fight continues over grants that the NIH previously approved but later canceled.

Lingering Questions

In June, in these same two cases, U.S. District Judge William Young ordered the NIH to restore grants the agency had awarded but then—after Trump retook the White House—terminated midgrant.

Young, a Reagan appointee, criticized the federal government for not formally defining DEI, despite using that term to justify terminating grants. He said at a hearing that he’d “never seen racial discrimination by the government like this” during his four decades as a federal judge.

But, two months later, the U.S. Supreme Court, in a 5-to-4 preliminary decision, stayed Young’s ruling ordering restoration of the grants. Justice Amy Coney Barrett, a Trump appointee, wrote for the majority that Young “likely lacked jurisdiction to hear challenges to the grant terminations, which belong in the Court of Federal Claims.” However, STAT reported that the NIH had restored more than 2,000 terminated grants following Young’s ruling, and it didn’t reverse course after the Supreme Court decision.

That question of whether researchers with canceled grants must ultimately try their luck before the Court of Federal Claims is now before the U.S. First Circuit Court of Appeals. There’s a hearing Tuesday in that matter.

Questions linger about when the grant fight will really end. In a video interview with journalist Paul Thacker—released Wednesday and previously reported on by STAT—NIH director Jay Bhattacharya said that, despite the grant restorations, any grants dealing with DEI that come up for renewal this year won’t be funded. Bhattacharya distinguished between cutting a grant and not renewing it.

He said that, “as best I can understand the legal aspects,” the courts have said his agency can’t cut restored grants. “But, when it comes to renewal, those grants no longer meet NIH priorities … so when they come up for renewal over the course of the year, we won’t renew them,” he said.

Bhattacharya said the NIH’s DEI-related work “did not actually have any chance of improving the health of minority populations.” He said, “I think that the shift away from DEI is of a piece with the rest of what we’re trying to do at the NIH, which is to do research that actually makes the lives of people better.”