What does a second Trump term mean for higher education? Trump has made it clear that he would like to enact sweeping changes to education, and it’s evident that this will include a sustained attack on diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives. Much that the Trump team has suggested so far—for example, using federal funding as leverage to increase pressure on colleges to roll back DEI initiatives—is similar to what he did during his first administration by issuing an executive order banning “divisive” diversity trainings.
But he has new plans as well, which include remodeling accreditation bodies by firing the “radical Left accreditors” who he says have allowed colleges to become “dominated by Marxist Maniacs and lunatics” and using the Department of Justice to tax and fine colleges for persisting in “explicit unlawful discrimination under the guise of equity.” A second Trump administration is likely to be more motivated, better equipped and more focused on dismantling DEI initiatives on college campuses.
There is much here for faculty members, students and administrators to be worried about. Those of us who are part of our university’s DEI initiatives should set about preparing for a second Trump administration. But as we do, it’s imperative that we also take time to reflect on why our fellow citizens so thoroughly rebuked the Democratic Party last week. Are there any takeaways from the election that might help us understand why our work may be targeted and to guide our preparation? I believe that there are.
Since DEI offices and committees play a variety of roles—from admissions and hiring to compliance with federal law to student affairs and cultural programming to training and education—how we will prepare will vary. I want to focus on the specifically educational arm of DEI. And as I survey reactions to the sweeping Republican victories last week to get a feel for what’s coming, the overwhelming impression I get is contempt. They think we regard them with contempt. Why might this be and what can we do about it?
In short, I’ll argue that Republican voters think that those of us in DEI spaces are incurious, that we’re politically motivated, that we’re patronizing and that we’re censorious. Consequently, if we want to prepare ourselves, we need to take steps to ensure that we explicitly address these concerns.
First Takeaway: We’re Perceived as Incurious
Ezra Klein has suggested that, emotionally, there are two ways that people who are disappointed by this election can respond: with contempt or with curiosity. Is the election a sign, as some have stated, that our society is really just much more racist and sexist than we thought? While it may be tempting or even comforting to rush to this conclusion, recent research suggests that being a person of color or being a woman are not negative traits in the minds of most voters. If nothing else, the fact that Trump was able to make significant gains among minorities should give us pause. Several commentators have speculated that Democrats have taken minority voters for granted and that class—especially when understood broadly as including not just economic status but cultural proclivities—may be a more salient identity characteristic than racial or ethnic identity when it comes to voting.
Rightly or wrongly, DEI offices and committees are often perceived as thinking they already have the answers and simply need to hand down the truth from on high. For instance, when those of us in DEI spaces talk about identity, we’re perceived as pre-empting necessary conversations by deciding the issue in advance. Our programming often encourages people to think of themselves as members of particular identity groups without explicitly asking and inviting discussion about whether this is what we should be doing in the first place. After all, one of the things that various marginalized communities debate is precisely whether their own identities—often constructed for the purpose of denigration and degradation—should be preserved or transcended, held tightly or held lightly.
Some, like the philosopher Michael Oakeshott, believe that “change is a threat to identity and every change is an emblem of extinction.” Others see in encouraging students, faculty and staff to think about themselves as members of specific identity groups a reactionary move that reinforces and reifies categories like race that are harmful and should be jettisoned. Yet still others hear in the invitation to colorblindness a call for members of all races and ethnicities to become “honorary whites.”
I have no answers on this front. However, I do think that if DEI is to be done well, we should be affording opportunities precisely to have these kinds of discussions. When those who have dissenting views in DEI spaces claim they’ve been canceled, this does not help us make the case that we’re fundamentally curious people who share the research mission of higher education. Consequently, going forward, if those of us in DEI spaces reach too readily for sexism and racism as the sole explanation for the election results, that is likely to be read as another sign of lack of curiosity—as if we already know the answer before we investigate.
Second Takeaway: We’re Perceived as Progressive Activists
Education under the auspices of DEI is often interpreted as progressive identity politics by another name—and several commentators have argued that the events of this election season point to the deep unpopularity of identity politics. Of course, we can argue that this perception is flawed or is only the result of right-wing media, but this, I think, would just be to put our heads in the sand and fail to prepare for what the next four years are likely to bring. And, frankly, it’s not hard to understand why Trump supporters see us this way, and it doesn’t require reaching for explanations like fake news or misinformation.
To take one example, DEI offices and committees feel it is important to, as we like to say, center those who have lived experience. Usually, this means that we invite those of specific identity characteristics to share their experiences “as a woman” or “as a person of color.” Yet, as I’ve argued elsewhere, the use of lived experience is a tricky thing. Too often, the centering of those with lived experience amounts to promoting minorities with progressive views. However, when we pick and choose in this way, we really aren’t centering minority voices per se but, in Tyler Austin Harper’s piercing words, we are engaging in an “elaborate act of ventriloquy.”
Moving forward, we should be more intentional about not only hearing but giving voice to different ideological perspectives in our programming. Doing so would go a long way to alleviate concerns that DEI offices and committees are simply activist arms of progressive politics.
Third Takeaway: We’re Perceived as Patronizing
Two things have been made abundantly clear to me during the lead-up and aftermath of this year’s election. First, members of our college communities want to understand the world around them. However, the fact that so many people believed the “demography is destiny” credo and were consequently taken by surprise by Trump’s success with minority voters implies that we’re not effectively communicating what we in DEI spaces already know—namely, that groups are not monoliths. Demography is not destiny in part because Blacks, Hispanics and other minority groups are not homogeneous and do not have the same values across the board. Many in our campus communities probably know that people of color have typically voted for the Democratic Party, but I suspect this has led them—wrongly—to infer that people of color are much more likely to have progressive values. As the sociologist Musa al-Gharbi has pointed out, “Blacks and Hispanics … tend to be more socially conservative and religious on average than whites.”
Second and this is painful to say, students often feel like the people responsible for educating them are patronizing them—or worse, that those people have outright contempt for them. One professor I spoke with about the election told me that students report feeling pressure to take moral stances on all sorts of issues but that they are also not given real understanding of the issues in play. This translates to them feeling talked down to, which they find alienating and offensive.
This tells me that, as we look to the next four years, DEI offices and committees should refocus on our task as educators. And we should be careful to do so not through training—that is, by attempting to lead members of our campuses to particular conclusions—but rather through a thorough exploration of the issues. We should be saying things like, “Here’s what the issues are, here’s the background, here’s what thoughtful and intelligent people are saying, here are a variety of positions that reasonable people take,” and so on. By contrast, when we tell members of our campus communities—even implicitly—“Here are the views that you need to espouse,” we are very likely to alienate the very people that we’re trying to reach.
Fourth Takeaway: We’re Perceived as the Language Police
The educational work that we do as part of our DEI initiatives is important. The social world is complex and people want to be educated. Even faculty members and staff sometimes express a lack of understanding of how to navigate the social world and want to be instructed. I often feel that this request for instruction is motivated by a potent mix of sincere desire to be a good ally and a terror of being read as in opposition to the latest social justice movement, especially by students.
Language plays an important role here. As Glenn Loury illuminatingly pointed out in a classic essay 30 years ago, we have an instinctive awareness that others try to discern our motivations and character by reading between the lines when we speak. One way they do this is by paying attention to whether we use appropriate lingo—a true believer would do so, they reason, so someone who does not, well, they must not be one of us. This means that some of what we do in DEI circles is respond to this desire by training our communities in the most up-to-date progressive lingo.
This focus on keeping up with the latest neologisms has led to many feeling alienated. Politeness and decorum on campus are invaluable, but many feel that this rigid attention to language is motivated by something else—perhaps, as Loury might suggest, by a desire to distinguish us from them. Or, as al-Gharbi might argue, perhaps by a desire to display one’s status and acquisition of symbolic capital. In any case, there are real costs of using language for these purposes.
To take one example, it’s become a commonplace for people in DEI spaces to use the language of “Latinx” in referring to members of the Hispanic or Latino population. However, a recent survey from Pew shows that 75 percent of Hispanics think that this term should not be used. A new paper suggests that Latinos are less likely to support a candidate that uses “Latinx.” And Democrat Ruben Gallego, the new senator-elect from Arizona, has recently been quoted as suggesting that its use is alienating to voters and amounts to a kind of cultural imposition by white liberals. This semester, I have had several students—including students of color—express that they feel in the policing of language a contempt from those who purport to be their moral or ethical superiors. Obviously, this is the opposite of the inclusion and belonging that we seek to foster.
In the coming years, there is going to be increased pressure on DEI offices themselves. And, given the shifting political landscape on both state and local levels, this may mean that many public institutions decide that they need to restructure their offices or disband them entirely. This means that those of us in DEI spaces need to be creative about how we can continue to do our work in a new environment.
For those of us who work on the educational aspect of DEI, I’ve tried to chart a path for preparing ourselves for the next four years. If DEI amounts to—or is viewed as—political activism, then it’s likely that it will be dismantled under Trump. However, if we are conspicuous in including multiple viewpoints, emphasizing open inquiry and curiosity and modeling genuine conversations about important issues relating to identity, then DEI will continue to have a place on campuses. It will simply be part of a rigorous college education.
