Now that congressional Democrats have relaunched an effort to ban legacy admissions at top US universities, virtually everyone can count on one thing: ideological embarrassment.
Legacy admissions are part of a broader system whereby elite US colleges and universities largely favor wealthy families in their admissions practices. It is possible to buy your way into those institutions — whether by being born into a legacy family that is considered likely to make a donation, or by being the child of someone who actually makes a large donation. About 43 percent of white students admitted to Harvard are recruited athletes, legacies, from the “dean’s interest” list (which is often related to donations), or children of faculty and staff.
There are any number of motives behind these admissions practices, but a major one is the desire to bring in money and boost endowments.
Illustration: Mountain People
As someone who stands to the political right of most of my fellow university faculty and administrators, I have no qualms accepting the argument that colleges and universities need to grow wealthier. That can mean tolerating various inequalities in the short run, because in the longer run academia could produce more innovation that benefits virtually everyone, including the poor.
This is not the kind of argument many on the political left find appealing. In tax policy, for example, such reasoning — the idea that short-run inequality can bring longer-run benefits — is often derided as “trickle-down economics.” And yet virtually any fan of the Ivies has to embrace this idea. The best defense of the admissions policies of the US’ most prestigious universities is a right-leaning argument that they are deeply uncomfortable with.
DEI POLICIES
So instead they tie themselves into knots to give the impression that they are open and egalitarian. To boost their image, minimize lawsuits and perhaps assuage their own feelings of institutional guilt, top US schools adopt what are known as DEI policies, to promote diversity, equity and inclusion.
The “inclusion” part of that equation is hardest for them to defend. Top-tier universities accept only a small percentage of applicants — below 4 percent at Stanford University last year, for example. How inclusive can such institutions be? Everyone knows that these schools are elitist at heart, and that they (either directly or indirectly) encourage their students and faculty to take pride at belonging to such a selective institution. Most of all, the paying parents are encouraged to be proud as well. Who exactly is being fooled here?
So the top schools have the choice of either sounding hypocritical, or defending themselves with right-leaning rhetoric. They choose hypocrisy.
Of course, that hurts their reputation. The public might not know much about the details of the latest campus controversy at Princeton or Columbia, but they have a strong sense that these kinds of elite schools are hypocritical when it comes to their admissions practices. This sense has only been magnified by campus conflicts and protests over the Israel-Hamas war. Again, most US citizens are not playing close attention, but universities might have a hard time convincing the public that they are treating protesters and activists fairly because the public already believes they do not treat applicants fairly.
Yes, there are also ideological tensions on the right. Conservatives are accustomed to attacking top universities for being too left-wing, and indeed the data support that contention. Maybe they would have a different view of elite higher education if they saw it as one of the US’ leading practitioners of trickle-down economics.
IMPLICATIONS OF A BAN
Banning legacy admissions would also require a rather drastic insertion of the federal government into the business and admissions practices of private-sector universities, especially once enforcement issues are considered (“Well, we didn’t accept you ‘just’ because your dad went here”). Still, I do not expect conservative politicians to go to the mat for Yale or Dartmouth, even though the libertarian strand of Republican Party thought would suggest doing so.
As for me, I teach at a state university — George Mason University — that accepts about 90 percent of all applicants. If someone has a chance of succeeding, we offer them the opportunity to show that. Not all institutions can or should work this way, but mine is an inclusive university, and I am proud of that.
I thus have the luxury of opposing the new anti-legacy-admissions bill for two mutually reinforcing reasons. First, it reflects an unjustified expansion of federal powers over higher education. Even if you are anti-legacy, or want to rein in the Ivy League, you might not be happy about how those federal powers could be used the next time around.
Second, I do not mind a world where the US’ top schools practice and implicitly endorse trickle-down economics. Someone has to carry the banner forward, and perhaps someday this Trojan horse would prove decisive in intellectual battle. In the meantime, I have my cudgel — hypocrisy among the educational elite — and I, too, can feel better about myself.
Tyler Cowen is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist, a professor of economics at George Mason University and host of the Marginal Revolution blog. This column does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the editorial board or Bloomberg LP and its owners.
Taiwanese pragmatism has long been praised when it comes to addressing Chinese attempts to erase Taiwan from the international stage. “Taipei” and the even more inaccurate and degrading “Chinese Taipei,” imposed titles required to participate in international events, are loathed by Taiwanese. That is why there was huge applause in Taiwan when Japanese public broadcaster NHK referred to the Taiwanese Olympic team as “Taiwan,” instead of “Chinese Taipei” during the opening ceremony of the Tokyo Olympics. What is standard protocol for most nations — calling a national team by the name their country is commonly known by — is impossible for
China’s supreme objective in a war across the Taiwan Strait is to incorporate Taiwan as a province of the People’s Republic. It follows, therefore, that international recognition of Taiwan’s de jure independence is a consummation that China’s leaders devoutly wish to avoid. By the same token, an American strategy to deny China that objective would complicate Beijing’s calculus and deter large-scale hostilities. For decades, China has cautioned “independence means war.” The opposite is also true: “war means independence.” A comprehensive strategy of denial would guarantee an outcome of de jure independence for Taiwan in the event of Chinese invasion or
A recent Taipei Times editorial (“A targeted bilingual policy,” March 12, page 8) questioned how the Ministry of Education can justify spending NT$151 million (US$4.74 million) when the spotlighted achievements are English speech competitions and campus tours. It is a fair question, but it focuses on the wrong issue. The problem is not last year’s outcomes failing to meet the bilingual education vision; the issue is that the ministry has abandoned the program that originally justified such a large expenditure. In the early years of Bilingual 2030, the ministry’s K-12 Administration promoted the Bilingual Instruction in Select Domains Program (部分領域課程雙語教學實施計畫).
Former Fijian prime minister Mahendra Chaudhry spoke at the Yushan Forum in Taipei on Monday, saying that while global conflicts were causing economic strife in the world, Taiwan’s New Southbound Policy (NSP) serves as a stabilizing force in the Indo-Pacific region and offers strategic opportunities for small island nations such as Fiji, as well as support in the fields of public health, education, renewable energy and agricultural technology. Taiwan does not have official diplomatic relations with Fiji, but it is one of the small island nations covered by the NSP. Chaudhry said that Fiji, as a sovereign nation, should support
RSS