Game of war: The cards are stacked against the humanities

“You don’t have the cards right now.” In his now notorious news conference with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, President Donald Trump offered the image of a poker match or, less grand, a game of war. It was characteristic plain speak from the real estate developer-turned-politician. Negotiation and the “art of the deal” drive the president. In fact, they have been gamified by him. Before “The Apprentice,” there was Trump: The Game — Monopoly-like in style but faster paced and more ruthless. The tagline said it all, “It’s not whether you win or lose, but whether you win.”

Today, it seems like everyone and nearly every institution — witting or not — is a player in a game envisioned by the president. They are assessing their strengths and weaknesses, the metaphorical cards that they hold. And, let’s be honest, some simply don’t have the cards right now. This is true for colleges and universities as they attend to directives to end diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) initiatives, stem antisemitism on campuses and reduce overhead costs associated with federal research grants. Most reputable universities operate as nonprofits with an aim to serve the public good. The government’s seeming eagerness to reduce, freeze or cancel grants threatens this core mission.

The pernicious brilliance of the federal approach is the way in which it pushes university leaders to decide whether to stand up for their institution’s values or to fold with the hope of keeping their funding intact. In some cases, there isn’t any tension. Hopefully, we can all agree that antisemitism — as well as racism — needs to be actively confronted. A president, whether an occupant of the White House or a college’s chief executive, should not grant privileged access and special favors to Holocaust deniers. The split between values and recent federal funding directives can be more complicated. It is no secret that young girls with incredible aptitude in the sciences are introduced to few role models who look like them and share an experience of girlhood. And yet, the choice that many administrators now face is whether to preserve programmes that help girls achieve their potential, at the risk of their universities losing essential research funding, or to dismantle such programs in order to appease lawmakers who ironically object to the presence of transgender girls in athletics but demand to see cis-gendered boys in girls-only science camps.

In the conversations about these governmental directives, the precarity of the humanities is rarely a focus of attention. However, a most dangerous game will arise in which colleges increasingly compelled to hunt for cost savings will begin to target areas beyond the lab. The humanities are not capable of saving the sciences. This isn’t because of obstinance but rather the exponential difference in budget size. To put this in perspective: The federal government’s threat to cancel $400 million in current funding for Columbia University is significant in that the allocation is the same as the combined annual appropriation for the National Endowment for the Arts and the National Endowment for the Humanities. At many colleges, the start-up cost for one university scientist can exceed the single-year costs for an entire humanities department. The shift toward science, technology, engineering and math in universities happened decades ago. In the years following World War II, the US government expanded its contracts with colleges. It also increased funding to support the buildings and people needed for research.

The rising ceiling on indirect costs spurred a host of life-improving and lifesaving innovations. We have all benefited from these advances. Our ability to survive the COVID-19 pandemic is an example. Investments in overhead transformed the look of college campuses. Buildings dedicated to science, engineering and technology now replace libraries as key landmarks on a university tour. Today, it is common to hear folks talk about the government’s gamesmanship as an assault on science. That’s only partially true. It is an attempt to shrink the footprint and lessen the influence of universities on American culture. To reduce science subsidies is to constrain and ultimately constrict university budgets and programs. This is part of a larger initiative to restore a particular and nostalgic vision of American culture.

The greatness of any institution — government or university — requires an embrace of the arts and humanities. This is part of the reason that Trump installed himself as chair of the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. It explains his rightful passion and enthusiasm for a potential sculpture garden of American heroes. It accounts for the directives to support planning for the 250th birthday of the United States of America. To shape and control national culture is to strengthen political authority and cement historical legacy. As colleges and universities meet this moment, the task ahead is daunting. It is especially challenging for leaders for whom federally sponsored science research is core to their idea of a contemporary university. How can they proceed in a manner that doesn’t re-create this Trumpian game in miniature on their campuses? The first step is to acknowledge that the threats faced by universities exceed the sciences.