Trump Administration’s “Crackdown on Harvard”
The administration applies financial pressure after the university refuses to comply with government demands.
It also threatens to revoke Harvard’s tax-exempt status.

In a stunning escalation of its campaign to overhaul American higher education, the Trump administration has once again targeted Harvard University—this time by canceling USD 450 million in federal funding. The move is the latest salvo in what has become a high-stakes ideological war between the conservative administration and progressive academic institutions. At the heart of this intensifying standoff are conflicting visions of education, free speech, diversity, and institutional independence.

For the Trump administration, elite universities like Harvard represent what it sees as bastions of progressive ideology, perceived to be out of touch with mainstream American values. For Harvard, the administration’s actions represent an unprecedented assault on academic freedom and the university’s constitutional rights. The conflict, already fierce, appears to be heading toward an all-out confrontation.

Funding Canceled Amid Antisemitism Claims and DEI Backlash

On May 13 (local time), a “Joint Task Force to Eliminate Antisemitism” led by the U.S. Department of Education notified Harvard University that it was revoking USD 450 million in federal support. According to officials, the decision stemmed from Harvard’s alleged failure to address campus-wide racial discrimination and antisemitic harassment, particularly within its law school’s peer review process for academic journals.

Yet beyond these stated reasons, many observers—and Harvard itself—point to a broader motive: a full-scale political and ideological offensive against what the Trump administration views as a corrupted academic system. In recent months, administration officials have openly criticized Ivy League universities such as Harvard, Columbia, and Princeton for what they allege is a lax response to anti-Israel activism and a campus culture they deem hostile to conservative values.

Central to the administration’s grievances is the presence of DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) programs. Officials have demanded the complete dismantling of these frameworks, accusing them of fueling ideological bias and antisemitism. The Trump administration has called for sweeping reforms, including new restrictions on student and faculty influence and stricter federal oversight of university curricula and administration.

Harvard, however, has not stood idly by. The university has forcefully rejected the administration’s directives, defending its policies and asserting that such demands amount to federal overreach and an attack on its foundational principles. The timing of the USD 450 million funding cut was no coincidence: it came just days after Harvard President Alan Garber submitted a formal letter of opposition to Education Secretary Linda McMahon.

Billions Frozen: A Campaign of Financial Coercion

This latest round of funding cancellation is not the first financial blow struck by the Trump administration against Harvard. Just weeks earlier, on April 11, the administration sent the university a letter outlining its dissatisfaction with Harvard’s academic and civil rights performance. The letter listed ten conditions Harvard would need to meet to maintain its financial relationship with the federal government.

These included reducing the authority of students and non-tenured faculty, identifying and reporting students deemed “hostile to American values,” and contracting a government-approved external agency to audit university programs alleged to be promoting antisemitic content.

President Garber responded swiftly and unequivocally. On April 14, he issued a public statement rejecting the administration’s terms, declaring that Harvard’s legal counsel had reviewed the demands and found them incompatible with the university’s mission and legal rights. “We will not surrender our independence or our constitutional rights,” he stated in a letter to the Harvard community.

The consequences were immediate and severe. The Trump administration responded by suspending USD 2.2 billion in long-term federal grants and freezing an additional USD 60 million in existing contracts. White House Press Secretary Caroline Leavitt justified the decision by stating that President Trump wanted Harvard to “apologize for the horrific antisemitism” on its campus and insisted that the university “must follow federal law.”

These sweeping punitive actions, critics argue, signal a deliberate strategy of coercion—one that uses financial leverage to force universities into ideological conformity. Supporters of the administration counter that federal dollars should not support institutions they believe are promoting discrimination or undermining national values.

Targeting Tax-Exempt Status: A Threat to Institutional Survival

Perhaps the most explosive development came on May 2, when Donald Trump publicly threatened to revoke Harvard’s tax-exempt status. In a post on his Truth Social platform, the former president declared: “We are going to strip Harvard of its tax-exempt status. They deserve it.”

Under current U.S. tax law, institutions like Harvard enjoy broad exemptions due to their nonprofit educational, religious, or charitable nature. However, those exemptions can be revoked if the institution engages in political activity or violates regulations. Trump’s statement suggested he believes Harvard has crossed that line.

Harvard’s leadership strongly pushed back. In an interview with The Wall Street Journal, President Garber called the threat both unreasonable and unlawful. “Unless there’s a reason unknown to us that could justify such a drastic action, this move would be highly illegal,” he said.

Garber also emphasized the critical role tax-exempt status plays in allowing educational institutions to fulfill their missions. “It is granted so that educational institutions can fulfill their teaching mission, and research universities can carry out their research mission,” he stated. “If we lose that status, it would severely undermine our ability to fulfill these responsibilities.”

The threat to revoke Harvard’s nonprofit privileges—combined with massive funding cuts and compliance ultimatums—marks a new level of pressure. Critics warn it sets a dangerous precedent of using the tax code and federal purse strings as political weapons. For Harvard, the battle is now not only about money, but about its very identity as an independent academic institution.

As the showdown continues, the Harvard-Trump feud has become more than a clash over DEI or campus speech. It is now a defining test of the boundaries between government authority and institutional autonomy. With billions on the line and constitutional principles at stake, this confrontation could reshape the landscape of American higher education for years to come.

Europe’s long-standing values of education as a public good undermined
New tuition-fee policies threatens Europe’s ability to retain global talent and fill workforce gaps
Reinstating free or subsidized tuition for non-EU students as a moral imperative and a strategic investment

For decades, non-European Union (non-EU) students have been the financial lifeblood of many European universities. Their tuition fees, while relatively modest compared to those in countries like the United States, have helped support the infrastructure, faculty salaries, and world-class research programs that European institutions are known for. In many ways, these international students have been treated as the “cash cows” of academia—providing much-needed funding without requiring a long-term commitment from their host countries. But that model is now being questioned.

The pandemic, followed by shifting geopolitical alliances and visa restrictions, has caused a sharp drop in the number of international students, especially from China, once a dominant source of tuition revenue. With fewer students and greater global competition for talent, the sustainability of charging non-EU students is coming under scrutiny. While governments may be hesitant to reintroduce free tuition for non-EU students due to budget constraints and political sensitivities, there's a compelling case to be made that doing so might not only be ethical but strategically wise.

A Policy Shift That Shook the System

In 2023, Norway—a country known for its egalitarian education system—passed legislation requiring non-EU students to pay tuition fees. The move marked a significant departure from the country’s long-standing tradition of providing tuition-free education to all. Norway’s government justified the change by citing the increasing number of international students and the financial strain on public universities. There were also concerns about potential abuses of the student visa system, particularly by those using it as a backdoor for immigration.

This shift was not just administrative; it symbolized a broader trend. Countries that had once welcomed international students with open arms began to close the financial doors on them. For some, this was a question of prioritizing limited public funds for domestic students—whose parents had contributed to the national education system through taxes. For others, it was about managing immigration and tightening border controls.

Yet critics of the policy argue that it is short-sighted. The immediate financial relief for universities may come at the cost of long-term competitiveness. Countries like Norway risk losing the global talent that their universities have historically attracted, trained, and often retained.

Across most of the European Union, higher education remains tuition-free or highly subsidized for domestic and EU students. This model rests on the principle that education is a public good, and that the costs should be borne collectively through taxes. Citizens benefit from accessible education, and in return, they contribute to the economy and the welfare state.

For non-EU students, however, the situation is markedly different. While still relatively affordable compared to the U.S. or U.K., tuition fees have become the norm in many countries. This dual-pricing structure creates a two-tier system where access to affordable education is determined by one's nationality.

But what gets lost in this financial arrangement is the long-term value of educated immigrants. Many non-EU students who come to Europe are not just seeking a degree—they’re looking for a future. They want to live, work, and contribute to the societies that educated them. Unlike in the U.S., where visa and employment restrictions often push graduates to return home, Europe has historically encouraged educated foreigners to stay, integrate, and fill skills shortages in key industries.

Europe’s Unique Social Contract

One of the most compelling arguments for reinstating free tuition—or at least dramatically reducing costs—for non-EU students lies in Europe’s own philosophy of education. In many parts of the continent, higher education is not seen as a business, but as a social investment. A degree is not just a private good to be purchased, but a public service extended in the hope that the graduate will contribute back to society. In countries like Germany, this ethos is particularly strong. Many Germans believe that if someone receives a high-quality education for free, they owe it to society to work and pay taxes there.

This philosophy stands in stark contrast to the American model, where higher education is a lucrative industry. U.S. universities often charge international students exorbitant fees while offering little support for post-graduation work opportunities. Once the diploma is awarded, many graduates are expected to leave, having served their financial purpose. Europe’s more inclusive approach could—and should—be its competitive advantage. By offering affordable or free education to talented students from around the world, Europe can build goodwill, attract top minds, and integrate them into its labor market.

As countries like China and India build up their own higher education infrastructure, fewer students are looking abroad. In this environment, Europe must ask itself: What will attract the next generation of global thinkers, scientists, and entrepreneurs? Tuition-free education could be the answer. Offering full or partial scholarships to non-EU students would signal that Europe is serious about remaining a global leader in education and innovation. More importantly, it would show that Europe values diversity—not just as a buzzword, but as a driver of economic and cultural strength.

Of course, reinstating free tuition would require political will and public support. It would mean asking taxpayers to help fund the education of foreigners. But if these educated foreigners stay and contribute—as many are willing and eager to do—the investment will more than pay off. The long-term gains in tax revenue, innovation, and social cohesion would likely outweigh the short-term costs.

A Strategic Imperative, Not Just a Moral One

At the end of the day, the debate about tuition fees for non-EU students is not just about money. It’s about values, strategy, and vision. Does Europe want to be a fortress, guarding its resources against outsiders? Or does it want to be a beacon, attracting the world’s brightest minds and integrating them into its future?

The recent move by Norway may have set a precedent, but it doesn’t have to become the norm. Instead, it can serve as a wake-up call. A reminder that policies rooted in fear or short-term thinking can undermine long-term national interests.

Reinstating free tuition for non-EU students won’t be easy, and it may not happen overnight. But as global competition for talent intensifies, and as demographic pressures mount across Europe, it may be one of the smartest investments a country can make. In the end, educating the world’s best and brightest isn’t just an act of generosity—it’s a strategy for survival.

The Trump administration’s proposed federal budget includes unprecedented cuts to science funding
Scientists and universities warn of severe domestic and global consequences
The future of American research now hinges on Congressional negotiations and public pressure

In a move that has stunned researchers, university officials, and global observers alike, the Trump administration has put forward a proposed federal budget that, if passed, would represent the most significant reduction in science funding in modern U.S. history. The sweeping cuts span across a wide range of research institutions and disciplines, sending a clear signal: science is no longer a top priority in the eyes of the federal government.

The proposal would deeply reduce—or, in some cases, eliminate—funding for prominent scientific agencies and programs. The National Science Foundation (NSF), which supports most non-medical academic research across the U.S., would see a devastating cut of more than half of its annual budget. Similarly, the National Institutes of Health (NIH), which funds critical medical and health-related research, faces steep reductions that would force a halt to many active research programs. The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), already under pressure in past years, would lose the majority of its scientific research division, severely limiting its capacity to study and respond to environmental threats.

This budget proposal represents a sharp reversal from the path the U.S. was on just a few years ago. Under the Biden administration, science was treated as a pillar of national policy. Budgets modestly increased for most science agencies, and the White House made public commitments to addressing climate change, fostering innovation, and ensuring American leadership in advanced technology. President Biden often emphasized that scientific investment was not just about discovery, but about securing economic prosperity and national security.

Unprecedented Cuts and Their Justification

Now, in what many researchers fear may mark the beginning of a long-term decline, the new budget proposes a radically different approach. The justification offered by the Trump administration focuses on limiting “non-essential” federal expenditures and redirecting resources toward other priorities, including defense, border control, and domestic industrial development. But the scientific community warns that the long-term cost of gutting research funding will far outweigh any short-term savings.

Within academia, the response has been swift and vocal. University administrators across the country have begun to issue statements condemning the proposed budget and warning of catastrophic impacts if the cuts are implemented. One of the biggest concerns is the potential collapse of the research pipeline—from undergraduate and graduate training to postdoctoral programs and independent research careers. If federal funds disappear, universities will be unable to support the research infrastructure that underpins their science departments.

The effect wouldn’t just be felt in the halls of academia. The private sector, especially industries reliant on scientific and technological innovation, also stands to lose. Pharmaceutical companies, biotech firms, clean energy startups, and semiconductor manufacturers all benefit indirectly from basic research conducted at universities and federally funded labs. Without this pipeline of foundational science, the entire innovation ecosystem is at risk.

Furthermore, many prominent scientists and policy analysts are raising alarm about the international consequences of the cuts. The U.S. has long enjoyed a leadership position in global science, attracting top minds from around the world and driving collaborative research on some of the most pressing challenges of our time. That position is now in jeopardy. Countries such as Germany, Canada, China, and members of the European Union have already begun adjusting their science recruitment strategies to capitalize on America's retreat. Some have even launched special funding initiatives aimed specifically at luring American scientists away from what they now see as an unstable funding environment.

Ripple Effects Across Academia, Industry, and Global Science

The brain drain is not merely a theoretical risk. Many early-career scientists are openly questioning their future in the U.S. A number of postdoctoral researchers and junior faculty members have expressed their intention to seek positions abroad, where funding is more secure and governments have demonstrated a long-term commitment to research.

The legal and political backlash has already begun. A group of major research universities has filed a lawsuit against the administration over changes to the federal policy governing reimbursement for indirect research costs. The new policy caps reimbursement at 15%, a drastic reduction from historical norms, which institutions argue makes it financially unfeasible to conduct federally funded research. This is likely to be just one of many legal challenges, as universities fight to preserve their ability to sustain research and remain competitive.

What makes the situation even more troubling is the degree of uncertainty. Budget proposals are subject to Congressional negotiation, but political analysts note that science has lost much of its bipartisan support in recent years. Once a largely non-partisan issue, science funding has increasingly become entangled in ideological debates about climate policy, regulation, and federal overreach. This growing polarization means that science advocates can no longer count on cross-aisle support to rescue critical funding lines.

In some parts of the country, public opinion is divided. While many communities—especially those near large research universities or tech hubs—are deeply concerned, other segments of the population see the cuts as part of a broader effort to rein in federal spending and prioritize domestic issues. Conservative media outlets have framed the move as a necessary rebalancing, pointing to what they describe as bloated bureaucracies and politically biased science agendas.

Nevertheless, it’s difficult to overstate the magnitude of the potential impact. The elimination of funding for certain programs means that entire fields of research could vanish from the American scientific landscape. Studies on climate change, renewable energy, biodiversity, and pandemic preparedness are among the areas most at risk. These are not just academic questions—they are issues with direct consequences for public health, economic resilience, and global security.

The scientific community is bracing for what may be a prolonged period of uncertainty and retrenchment. Many are organizing lobbying efforts, public awareness campaigns, and policy briefings in an attempt to rally support and sway key decision-makers in Congress. National scientific societies, such as the American Association for the Advancement of Science, have called on their members to advocate at both state and federal levels.

The Fight to Preserve American Science

The big question now is whether this is a temporary setback or the beginning of a long-term shift in the U.S. approach to science. Some observers fear that, if enacted, the Trump administration’s budget would fundamentally alter the landscape of American science for a generation or more. The research community, they argue, can survive lean years—but it cannot thrive in an environment where science itself is treated as expendable.

In the coming months, the debate over the budget will play out in Congress. But the ripple effects are already being felt across labs, campuses, and international borders. The U.S. scientific enterprise—once the envy of the world—now faces a defining moment. Whether it can weather the storm and emerge resilient will depend not only on legislative outcomes but on the willingness of the nation to recommit to a future built on discovery, evidence, and innovation.

China’s Study Tour Revival Sparks Shift in Global Education Power Dynamics
From Ivy League to Intra-Asia: Chinese Students Redefine Study Abroad Destinations
Parents, Policy, and Pragmatism: What’s Fueling China’s Post-Pandemic Education Boom?

In the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, global education has undergone profound transformations. Nowhere is this more evident than in China, where the outbound study tourism industry is not only recovering but flourishing. While traditional education powerhouses like the United States face declining appeal among Chinese students, regional destinations in Asia and select Western countries such as the United Kingdom and Australia are seeing a renewed surge in interest. The story of Kent Cai, a seasoned education consultant, encapsulates this shift. His whirlwind July of 2025, marked by six successful overseas tours involving over 150 Chinese college students, underscores the scale and momentum of China’s evolving study-abroad narrative. This article explores the key dynamics fueling the resurgence of study tourism, the shifting landscape of preferred destinations, and what this transformation means for the global education ecosystem.

A Pandemic Pause, Then a Powerful Comeback

China’s study tourism industry, like many sectors reliant on international mobility, took a hard hit during the pandemic. Travel bans, lockdowns, and a general sense of uncertainty rendered overseas tours nearly impossible. However, with the lifting of travel restrictions in early 2023, the industry has witnessed an impressive rebound. The market was valued at 147.3 billion yuan (US$20.3 billion) in 2023, closely trailing its 2019 high of 152.3 billion yuan. Experts anticipate an even steeper growth trajectory, projecting the market will reach 179.1 billion yuan in 2024 and exceed 300 billion yuan by 2028.

This resurgence is driven not just by pent-up demand but by a conscious re-evaluation of international education’s purpose. For Chinese families, study tours represent more than sightseeing or short-term travel; they are strategic investments into their children’s futures. A recent iiMedia Research report found that two-thirds of surveyed Chinese parents expressed strong interest in overseas educational experiences for their children. With student development, global awareness, and international career competitiveness at stake, these tours are seen as pivotal stepping stones.

Consultants like Kent Cai are experiencing a return to pre-pandemic business levels. His company’s operations have doubled since 2022, with the number of educational tours and enrolled students mirroring those of 2019. The destinations range from traditional hubs like Sydney and Osaka to emerging favorites like Kuala Lumpur and Jakarta, highlighting a diversification in travel preferences and educational exposure.

Redefining Destination Appeal: The Decline of the US and the Rise of Asia

Despite the bounce-back in study tourism, Chinese students and their families are becoming increasingly selective about where they go. The United States, once a top choice for international education, is witnessing a noticeable dip in popularity among Chinese students. Several factors contribute to this shift, including tightening visa regulations, rising tuition fees, and heightened geopolitical tensions. Chinese students have become wary of the perceived lack of safety and inclusivity in the U.S., particularly amid post-pandemic racism and anti-China sentiment.

This decline has opened opportunities for other countries to capture the interest of Chinese students. The United Kingdom and Australia remain in favor, largely due to more stable visa policies and consistent messaging around international student support. Yet, the most dramatic change is the growing allure of regional destinations within Asia. Countries like Japan, South Korea, Malaysia, and the Philippines are rapidly climbing the preference ladder.

In May 2023, Japan recorded a 20.8% increase in international students compared to the previous year, mostly enrolling in university pathways and language institutes. China remains the largest source of these students. South Korea’s international student population has more than doubled over the past decade, reaching 236,000 in 2023. The country has set an ambitious goal of attracting 300,000 international students by 2027, and it appears well on track.

Malaysia offers another compelling case. As of September 2023, the country hosted over 47,000 university students from China, a fivefold increase in five years. Chinese nationals now comprise 37% of Malaysia’s total inbound student body. Even the Philippines, traditionally a modest player in this domain, granted 16,200 student visas to Chinese nationals in 2023. Although this influx has triggered some national security concerns, it highlights the broader trend of intra-Asian educational mobility.

Economic realities play a critical role in these shifts. With China experiencing record-high youth unemployment, the return-on-investment for expensive overseas degrees is being reconsidered. Parents, once eager to send their children to top U.S. institutions at any cost, are now more cautious. The so-called "Bank of Mum and Dad" is more conservative, focusing spending on options that promise both quality and value. Regional destinations offer competitive educational standards at a fraction of the cost, making them increasingly attractive.

The decline in English proficiency across the Asian region, including China’s drop to 91st in the EF English Proficiency Index, further complicates the appeal of English-speaking countries. Students with lower language confidence may prefer destinations where they can thrive academically without the pressure of mastering a foreign language at an advanced level.

Strategic Shifts and the Future of Global Education

As China’s study tourism industry evolves, it is reshaping the international education landscape in profound ways. First, it signals a decentralization of global student mobility. The dominance of English-speaking nations is no longer a given. Instead, a more multipolar world is emerging where regional hubs within Asia offer credible, competitive alternatives.

Second, this shift compels traditional destination countries to reassess their strategies. Nations like the U.S. must confront the ramifications of their policies and rhetoric. Discriminatory visa practices, safety concerns, and volatile geopolitical postures send strong deterrent signals. Without meaningful reforms, these countries risk alienating one of the most significant and financially impactful student demographics.

Third, the rising demand for short-term study tours opens new avenues for international collaboration. Universities and educational agencies in Asia and beyond must adapt to the growing appetite for programs that blend academic rigor with experiential learning. Dual-degree initiatives, language immersion programs, and summer schools designed for Chinese students can tap into this expanding market.

China’s domestic educational institutions are also positioned to benefit. As more students opt to stay closer to home, Chinese universities are scaling up their internationalization efforts. They are investing in global research partnerships, joint degrees, and English-language programs to retain talent domestically while maintaining a global outlook.

Ultimately, China’s study tourism revival is about more than numbers. It reflects a broader cultural and economic recalibration. The post-pandemic world has made students and parents more pragmatic, prioritizing safety, affordability, and long-term outcomes over prestige and tradition. This new paradigm challenges outdated notions of what global education should look like and who gets to define it.

In conclusion, the resurgence of China’s study tourism sector is both a symbol and a catalyst of change in international education. It invites policymakers, educators, and institutions worldwide to rethink their approaches and embrace a more inclusive, diversified, and adaptable model. With projections pointing toward continued growth, and with consultants like Kent Cai leading the charge, the future of global student mobility is being written not in the halls of Ivy League schools, but on the bustling streets of Kuala Lumpur, the classrooms of Osaka, and the universities of Seoul and beyond.

America’s STEM education system is in crisis
China is rapidly advancing in STEM through strategic investment and curriculum reform
A national STEM strategy centered on data literacy, curricular modernization, and talent retention is urgently needed

For much of the past decade, America’s educational conversation has been dominated by student debt. Rightly so. The burden of student loans has altered career paths, delayed home ownership, and burdened a generation. But while we fixate on student loan forgiveness, we are ignoring a far more urgent, far-reaching threat—America’s collapse in Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM) education.

STEM is not just about jobs in Silicon Valley or Wall Street. It is the foundation of national innovation, economic productivity, defense capacity, and our ability to navigate the technologies reshaping the global order. It is, in many ways, the oxygen of modern civilization. And yet, by most metrics, the United States is suffocating. This is no exaggeration. Test scores are plummeting. Workforce shortages loom. International rivals, particularly China, are advancing with surgical precision. We are not just losing a global education race—we are risking our future.

Declining STEM Performance and the Global Talent Gap

In 2022, the National Assessment of Educational Progress—the “Nation’s Report Card”—delivered a grim milestone: for the first time in history, average math scores for nine-year-olds fell. The trend has only worsened. In 2023, American teens recorded their lowest math scores since the 1970s. This isn’t just a post-pandemic blip; it’s the outcome of years of neglect, stagnant reform, and lack of national vision.

America’s students routinely underperform on international benchmarks. In OECD comparisons, we trail behind countries not just like China, but also Estonia, Poland, and Singapore in mathematical reasoning and scientific literacy. These are not abstract rankings—they represent the growing gap in skills needed to participate in and lead the global economy.

Nowhere is this more painfully visible than in the semiconductor industry, a linchpin of the digital age. According to industry estimates, the United States will face a shortfall of 300,000 engineers by 2030. If that happens, 80% of jobs in the semiconductor space could go unfilled. This would sabotage efforts to “reshore” chip manufacturing, reduce reliance on Taiwan, and counter China’s growing technological might.

The 2022 CHIPS and Science Act authorized over $52 billion in funding to jumpstart U.S. semiconductor manufacturing and R&D. But money alone cannot solve a talent shortage. Taiwanese chipmaker TSMC’s Arizona facility has already run into delays—not due to equipment, but because there simply aren’t enough skilled workers to operate it.

The talent shortage doesn’t stop with chips. The fields underpinning artificial intelligence, cybersecurity, clean energy, quantum computing, and biomedical innovation are all struggling to find the people they need. Employers are desperate. But the talent isn’t there.

This shortfall is also a result of a failure to retain foreign talent trained in the United States. Despite graduating thousands of foreign-born students in STEM fields annually, America’s immigration system sends many of them home. Nearly 45% of STEM doctorates in U.S. universities are held by international students. They are trained here, want to stay, and are highly employable. Yet immigration backlogs, low H-1B visa approval rates (as low as 11%), and political gridlock block their path.

Meanwhile, countries like Canada, Germany, and Australia have streamlined their visa processes to welcome the very talent we reject. China, too, sends students abroad to absorb world-class knowledge, then uses it to fuel domestic innovation.

This is self-defeat on a grand scale. We are educating the world’s brightest minds, then letting other nations reap the benefits. In a geopolitical context increasingly defined by technological supremacy, this is not merely inefficient—it’s strategic malpractice.

China’s STEM Surge and the Lessons of Sputnik

While the United States dithers, China is racing ahead. Under President Xi Jinping, China has elevated STEM to the heart of its national strategy. Through the “Made in China 2025” initiative and its broader modernization drive, China is flooding its system with investment, overhauling curricula, and aggressively aligning education with industrial goals.

Today, China produces twice as many STEM PhDs as the United States. It has built research universities focused on frontier technologies, launched pilot AI academies, and fast-tracked majors in low-altitude economy engineering, data science, and intelligent maritime equipment. The Ministry of Education regularly adjusts majors to meet technological and economic needs. In 2024 alone, 1,673 new undergraduate STEM programs were added, while 1,670 obsolete ones—many in arts and humanities—were cut.

China's approach is not just quantity-focused. It is strategic. It seeks to dominate the key domains of the 21st century: AI, semiconductors, green tech, biotech, and quantum computing. These are not academic preferences; they are the technologies that will define economic power and military superiority.

And while China invests at home, it also sends hundreds of thousands of students abroad each year—many to the United States—to study at top institutions. These students return home, bringing back knowledge, research skills, and global networks that fuel China’s growth.

This dual strategy—indigenize and internationalize—has no counterpart in the U.S. Instead, we operate with no comprehensive STEM strategy, no cohesive curriculum reform, and no unified national purpose.

We’ve been here before. In 1957, when the Soviet Union launched Sputnik, the U.S. panicked. But instead of despairing, it acted. The 1958 National Defense Education Act launched federal investments in math, science, and language training, funded scholarships, created new research institutions, and overhauled curriculum design—placing it in the hands of scientists, not politicians.

Those reforms powered the space race, the birth of Silicon Valley, and an era of U.S. innovation unmatched in history.

Where is the modern equivalent? Despite China’s rise, there has been no decisive Sputnik moment to shock America into action. But that doesn't mean the threat isn't real. China doesn’t need to humiliate the U.S. in dramatic fashion. It only needs to quietly outpace us—and it is already doing so.

Data Literacy and the Future of National Competitiveness

In this context, the most overlooked and potentially transformative opportunity lies in data literacy. In the digital economy, data is not just the oil—it is the infrastructure, the oxygen, the language of modern life. Whether you're a biologist modeling ecosystems, an economist forecasting markets, or a voter deciphering public health statistics, the ability to read, analyze, and communicate data is fundamental.

Yet most American schools do not teach data literacy in any meaningful way. High school math classes still revolve around outdated sequences of algebra and geometry, while statistical reasoning and computational thinking—skills essential to thriving in the modern world—are treated as electives or afterthoughts.

This must change. Promising legislative efforts like the Data Science and Literacy Act and the Mathematical and Statistical Modeling Education Act aim to modernize K–12 curricula. But they remain underfunded and politically marginalized.

Embedding data literacy across subjects—science, civics, economics, and even the humanities—can equip students not only to succeed professionally, but also to become informed citizens. It can help break down STEM’s intimidating image and expand access to high-demand careers. Importantly, it can also bridge the gap between the technical and humanistic, preparing students to ask not only how systems work, but why they exist and what their impact might be.

There’s also room for optimism. Universities like Fudan in China are offering AI courses to students across all disciplines. The U.S. can do the same—mainstreaming tech fluency and interdisciplinary education to blur traditional academic boundaries. A data-literate society is a resilient society—capable of responding to crises, resisting misinformation, and harnessing innovation for public good.

This does not mean abandoning the humanities. On the contrary, as AI becomes more powerful, ethical reasoning, cultural literacy, and critical thinking become even more essential. But it does mean rebalancing priorities—and recognizing that STEM isn’t a luxury or niche; it’s the core of future-readiness.

America’s STEM crisis is not a future problem—it is a present emergency. Our test scores are in freefall. Our industries are starved for talent. Our immigration policies repel the very people we need. And our main geopolitical rival is executing a coordinated, well-funded strategy to dominate the technologies of tomorrow.

This is not a matter of partisan debate or academic preference. It is a matter of national survival. The 20th century belonged to the countries that led in steel, oil, and nuclear power. The 21st will belong to those who lead in chips, code, and quantum computation.

We cannot afford to wait for a dramatic wake-up call. The slow erosion of capability is just as dangerous as a sudden collapse—and harder to reverse. The path forward is clear:

Launch a comprehensive STEM national strategy, with federal funding, private sector partnerships, and curricular reform.

Invest in data literacy as a universal skill, not just a technical specialty.

Streamline immigration for foreign-born STEM graduates and open paths to citizenship for those already trained here.

Empower educators and scientists, not bureaucrats and ideologues, to design and deliver modern curricula.

Rebalance national education priorities to align with strategic needs—not temporary political fashions.

America has the talent, the institutions, and the resources to lead. What we lack is the urgency. And without urgency, we risk irrelevance. If we still aspire to lead the world—not just morally or militarily, but scientifically and economically—then we must make STEM a national mission, not just a classroom option. The future doesn’t wait. Neither should we.

Europe Faces Defense Reckoning
Debate Over Horizon Europe’s Role
Toward European Defense Autonomy

For decades, Europe has relied heavily on the transatlantic alliance with the United States to ensure its security, primarily through NATO. However, shifting global dynamics, the return of great power competition, and the re-election of Donald Trump have significantly altered the strategic calculus. As the U.S. grows more inward-looking and unpredictable in its foreign policy posture, the European Union is being forced to reconsider the foundations of its defense strategy. Amid the war in Ukraine, the erosion of trust in American commitment, and the growing threat of Russian aggression, a pressing question has emerged: Can Europe defend itself?

Trump, Putin, and the Collapse of Strategic Certainty

In response, the EU is not only calling for greater national defense investments but is also reevaluating the purpose and structure of its long-term research and innovation efforts. Central to this rethinking is the future of the EU Framework Programme for Research and Innovation—currently Horizon Europe. Originally designed to fund civilian-focused scientific advancement and innovation, Horizon Europe is now at the heart of a contentious debate. Should its funds be redirected to support defense-related research and dual-use technologies? Or should it remain strictly committed to civilian excellence, as originally envisioned?

This article explores how Europe is grappling with these intersecting challenges—strategic autonomy, defense funding, and the future of its Framework Programme—and what it means for the continent's security and sovereignty in a post-American world.

In February 2022, as Russian tanks rolled across Ukraine's borders, the European Union experienced its most profound security shock since the Cold War. The swift and brutal nature of Russia's invasion left little doubt about President Vladimir Putin's broader geopolitical ambitions. For the EU, this was more than a distant war; it was a call to redefine its own security posture.

Josep Borrell, then the EU's foreign policy chief, expressed his disbelief when his staff initially proposed a mere €50 million in aid to Ukraine. "Do you know what a war means? Put three zeros behind!" he retorted. This moment, crystallizing the gravity of the situation, signaled a turning point. From that point forward, Europe began confronting its long-standing dependence on the United States for defense.

Three years later, in 2025, the stakes have escalated further. Former U.S. President Donald Trump, now back in the White House, has rekindled old fears by openly cozying up to Putin and publicly denigrating Ukraine's President Volodymyr Zelenskyy. For many European leaders, this confirms their worst fears: the United States may no longer be a reliable ally.

Trump's actions have not only intensified Europe's existential angst but have also catalyzed a historic reassessment of its defense strategy. No longer can EU leaders take for granted the security umbrella that NATO, led by the U.S., once so robustly provided. In this new era of geopolitical flux, Europe is being compelled to stand on its own military and strategic feet.

The most vocal warnings have come from Central and Eastern Europe, particularly countries like Poland, Estonia, and Lithuania. Having long lived in the shadow of Russian expansionism, these nations have consistently warned that Ukraine might not be Putin's final objective. Their fears are no longer dismissed as alarmist. With incidents of Russian disinformation, sabotage, and even physical attacks on European soil, the continent is beginning to heed these frontline voices.

European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen encapsulated the shift in sentiment when she stated, "Yes, it is about Ukraine – but it is also about us." Her remarks underscore that Europe is not merely a spectator to Ukraine's struggle but a stakeholder in a broader conflict about sovereignty, stability, and the rule of law in Europe itself.

Strategic Gaps, Fiscal Realities, and the Future of the EU Framework Programme

As Europe begins to reckon with the new security environment, the need for a more unified, better-funded defense strategy is becoming clear. A recent report from the Harvard Kennedy School's Belfer Center, co-chaired by former U.S. ambassador to NATO Ivo Daalder, recommends that European nations allocate at least 3% of GDP to defense spending. This is a significant leap from NATO's 2% target — a target still unmet by seven EU nations, including Spain and Italy.

The report outlines several critical areas for investment: improving readiness of combat forces, developing a six-month reserve of ammunition and fuel, and acquiring essential strategic capabilities such as air and missile defense systems. These investments, the report argues, are not optional but necessary for Europe to maintain credible deterrence.

Kajsa Ollongren, former Dutch defense minister and a taskforce member, emphasized the urgency of rethinking defense budgets. "This is a crisis," she said. "We have no choice, and we have to act at the speed of relevance." Her words resonate with a broader European consensus that budgetary constraints can no longer serve as an excuse for inaction.

This urgency has reignited debate around Horizon Europe, the EU's €95 billion research and innovation programme running from 2021 to 2027. Originally established to support scientific excellence, technological development, and societal challenges from a strictly civilian lens, Horizon Europe is now under political pressure to evolve. Proposed amendments to the governing regulation (EU 2021/695) would allow funding for dual-use and defense-related technologies, particularly through the European Innovation Council (EIC) Accelerator.

Critics, including academic organizations like the League of European Research Universities (LERU), argue that such changes could dilute the civilian mission of the Framework Programme. They warn of a slippery slope where the Horizon budget is raided to address political imperatives, potentially undermining the trust between the research community and EU policymakers. They insist that the EU already has the European Defence Fund for military-related initiatives and that Horizon should remain a sanctuary for civilian research.

Nevertheless, the European Commission is moving forward. Von der Leyen has indicated support for “clarifying” the EIC Accelerator’s role in supporting companies with dual-use applications—such as cybersecurity, AI, and drone technologies—especially if such innovations are vital to Europe’s broader security goals.

Meanwhile, conversations are unfolding about the possibility of subsuming Horizon Europe’s successor, Framework Programme 10 (FP10), into a larger European Competitiveness Fund. Such a move has drawn criticism from academic leaders and parliamentarians alike, who argue that this would compromise the autonomy and focus of the EU's premier R&I program. The European Parliament’s Committee on Industry, Research and Energy has called for FP10 to remain a standalone program, emphasizing the need for independent, science-led governance and international collaboration.

Toward a Self-Reliant European Defense

If Europe is to truly defend itself, it must not only fund its armed forces but also resolve the internal contradictions hampering its defense strategy. The symbolic nature of Europe's fragmented response to Ukraine — full of diplomatic unity but logistical shortfalls — reflects the challenge ahead.

Von der Leyen and EU foreign policy chief Kaja Kallas are urging member states to ramp up military aid to Ukraine. A leaked document from Kallas's office calls for at least 1.5 million rounds of ammunition, plus drones, air-defense systems, missiles, and training for Ukrainian brigades. However, Western European diplomats privately concede that Europe would struggle to replace U.S. military aid if it were withdrawn.

President Zelenskyy has acknowledged this blunt reality. "Security guarantees without America are not real security guarantees," he recently told EU leaders. His sentiment lays bare the fragile nature of European defense autonomy.

The sentiment in many European capitals is shifting. Witney predicts that the era of "emptying our shelves" for Ukraine may soon end. Countries are beginning to reconsider whether their own armed forces can afford further depletion. The conversation is pivoting toward preserving European capabilities for European defense.

Daalder believes the best way to keep the U.S. engaged in European security is for Europe to present a credible, detailed plan for self-reliance. Even if Trump or any future U.S. leader turns away, Europe must be prepared to carry on. "You still have to do it," he stressed. "The question is not whether NATO can survive. The question is whether Europe is willing to do what it takes for security to be strengthened and supported by Europeans, for Europeans."

A symbolic reimagining of European defense is already underway. The European Commission's upcoming Defense White Paper, due this spring, is expected to propose structural reforms in procurement, interoperability, and industrial support. EU leaders will meet in June to deliberate on the plan, with potential landmark decisions in sight.

The task ahead is formidable. It will require the kind of political will, public support, and institutional coordination rarely seen in the EU's history. But the alternative — continued reliance on a retreating ally and a passive stance in the face of resurgent authoritarianism — is no longer tenable.

Europe stands at a crossroads. The path forward demands courage, unity, and above all, action. If the continent is to preserve its values, security, and strategic autonomy, the time to act is now.

President Trump’s new executive order threatens US universities' access to federal funding and student aid. 
A wave of backlash from educators, students, and accrediting bodies as Trump politicizes higher education and undermines institutional autonomy. 
Critics warn of federal overreach into academic freedom and ideological conformity.

President Donald J. Trump has ignited a political firestorm in higher education with a sweeping executive order aimed at reshaping the American university system from the inside out. Announced in late April, the order mandates a radical overhaul of the accreditation process for colleges and universities, with the explicit goal of eradicating Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives from American higher education. In doing so, the Trump administration is not merely targeting policies—it is threatening the legal and financial underpinnings of U.S. universities.

Under the new directive, accrediting agencies—the gatekeepers of federal legitimacy for higher education institutions—must now certify that schools do not impose DEI mandates in hiring, admissions, curriculum, or campus culture. Institutions that fail to comply may lose accreditation, effectively rendering them ineligible for federal student aid and potentially cutting off access to government research funding. This move, critics argue, strikes at the very foundation of what makes universities functional and viable in the modern academic ecosystem.

DEI Under Siege: Accreditation as a Political Too

Accreditation is not merely a seal of academic approval; it is a prerequisite for survival. Universities that lose it can no longer receive federal funds, cannot attract students dependent on financial aid, and may see faculty and research staff migrate to accredited institutions. The Trump administration has made it clear that institutions found to be promoting or requiring DEI practices as a condition of employment or enrollment are at risk.

The rationale from the administration is framed as an attempt to "strengthen academic freedom" and promote "intellectual diversity." However, many educators and analysts contend that the executive order undermines the very mechanisms of academic independence. Rather than allowing institutions to set their own pedagogical direction, the federal government is effectively dictating terms of ideological compliance.

“Campus Backlash and Sector-wide Fallout”

Reactions from the academic community have been swift and overwhelmingly negative. University administrators, faculty unions, and student organizations have decried the move as a politically motivated assault on higher education. Many view the order as a backdoor strategy to suppress discussions around race, gender, and systemic inequality—topics that DEI programs are explicitly designed to address.

"This isn't about educational quality," said one university president anonymously. "It's about controlling the narrative and punishing institutions that embrace values the administration finds politically inconvenient."

Professional accrediting bodies have also pushed back, noting that their standards were developed over decades with input from educational experts, not political operatives. For them, this executive order is not just a policy shift; it is an existential threat to the very concept of accreditation as a neutral, peer-reviewed process.

Perhaps the most immediate victims of this overhaul are students, especially those enrolled at institutions that now face uncertain accreditation status. Thousands of students currently attending colleges that prioritize DEI could find their degrees devalued or invalidated if those schools lose accreditation.

Students from underrepresented backgrounds are particularly vulnerable. DEI programs have historically played a significant role in increasing access and support for minority students, first-generation college-goers, and those from economically disadvantaged backgrounds. With these programs now under siege, critics argue that the administration is dismantling the very tools that have helped level the playing field in American higher education.

A college junior at a liberal arts college in the Midwest expressed their dismay: "I chose this school because of its commitment to diversity. Now I’m worried my degree won’t even mean anything when I graduate."

One of the most controversial aspects of the executive order is how it politicizes what has traditionally been an apolitical process. Accreditation has long been governed by independent, peer-reviewed agencies focused on educational quality, institutional governance, and academic integrity. By inserting ideological criteria into the mix—specifically targeting DEI—the Trump administration is transforming accreditation from a measure of quality to a tool of political conformity.

Critics liken this to government overreach of the worst kind, one that mirrors censorship models seen in authoritarian regimes. "The danger here is not just in the loss of DEI," said one education policy analyst. "It’s the normalization of political litmus tests for educational legitimacy."

The Legal Arena and What Comes Next

The executive order is likely to face a battery of legal challenges from states, universities, and civil rights organizations. Already, coalitions of legal scholars and education advocates are preparing lawsuits arguing that the move violates the First Amendment, Equal Protection Clause, and existing federal statutes governing education policy.

In parallel, state governments with strong public university systems are expected to resist implementation. California and New York, for example, have signaled that they will challenge any attempts to condition federal funds on compliance with ideological mandates.

Congressional Democrats are also mobilizing. While the executive order bypasses the need for immediate legislative approval, lawmakers are exploring ways to block funding or nullify its provisions through the appropriations process.

This unprecedented move may be the opening salvo in a broader cultural and educational realignment. With Trump already campaigning on promises to root out "wokeness" in public institutions, the attack on DEI in universities could be a template for similar efforts in K-12 education, public libraries, and other sectors.

If successful, the administration’s actions could reshape the ideological contours of American education for a generation. But the consequences for academic freedom, student equity, and institutional autonomy may be profound and lasting.

At its core, the Trump administration’s accreditation overhaul represents a significant escalation in the culture war over American education. By tying accreditation to the rejection of DEI, it forces institutions to choose between federal legitimacy and their commitment to inclusive values. The fallout could reverberate across every corner of higher education—endangering students, straining faculty, and eroding the independence of academic institutions.

Whether this effort will ultimately withstand legal and political scrutiny remains to be seen. But what is clear is that the battle lines have been drawn, and the stakes—for universities and the future of education itself—could not be higher.

This article is based on ideas originally published by VoxEU – Centre for Economic Policy Research (CEPR) and has been independently rewritten and extended by The Economy editorial team. While inspired by the original analysis, the content presented here reflects a broader interpretation and additional commentary. The views expressed do not necessarily represent those of VoxEU or CEPR.

Achieving gender equity in economics is not just a matter of fairness; it's a smart economic move. By tapping into the talent pool, we can boost innovation, improve policy outcomes, and ultimately, enhance economic growth.

Credentials versus Perception – A Stark Discrepancy

Imagine the profile that ought to command near‑automatic respect: an Oxford PPE graduate with First‑Class honors who subsequently survived the mathematical gauntlet of the LSE MSc Economics—an experience indistinguishable from the first year of a top‑tier PhD. She has internalized measure‑theoretic probability, solved dynamic‑stochastic general‑equilibrium models under uncertainty, and produced an econometrics dissertation that would intimidate half the editorial board of Econometrica. Yet when broadcasters invite her to discuss fiscal rules, they introduce her—without malice, but with chilling regularity—as “Rachel the Accountant.” This is not an isolated incident but a symptom of a systemic problem.

This anecdote is not an outlier. The CEPR column “Gender and Authority: Experts” reports that, when curriculum‑vitae lines are constant, women are nine to twelve percentage points less likely than otherwise identical men to be labeled “expert” by survey respondents. The survey design—single‑screen vignettes that cannot capture the full complexity of reputation—undoubtedly understates the problem. Yet, its directional finding echoes deeper literature: Heather Sarsons on referral patterns in medicine, Erin Hengel on journal referee behavior, and Lundberg & Stearns on citation gaps.

Pipeline explanations fall short. Indeed, only a third of economics PhDs in Europe and North America go to women, and the share narrows further in mathematically intense sub‑fields such as macro‑theory. However, scarcity in the pipeline does not explain differential recognition among those already through the gate. During the general equilibrium sequence at LSE, my cohort was twenty‑eight percent female; nevertheless, when invitations went out for policy round tables, the gender ratio often collapsed to single digits. Attrition, in other words, occurs after competence has been demonstrated.

Counting the Cost – A Back‑of‑Envelope Macro Simulation

Authority has economic value because it buys access to prestigious think‑tank fellowships, media bandwidth, and closed‑door advisory committees that set the tone for the fiscal and monetary debate. Empirical work by Blanes i Vidal and Möller suggests public visibility can raise an economist’s lifetime earnings by roughly one‑fifth.

Using their estimate as a proxy for marginal product, one can sketch the social cost of systematic under‑recognition. Assume the OECD employs fifteen thousand senior economists. Suppose thirty percent are women, and half suffer an authority discount of twenty percent in earnings and platform reach. If the average senior economist earns—and by revealed preference produces—about €190,000 a year, the deadweight loss from discounted female expertise already exceeds eight and a half billion euros annually. This figure is conservative: it ignores the policy errors that follow when a labor-market specialist is excluded from a minimum‑wage commission, or a banking‑regulation savant is overlooked for a crisis‑monitoring task force. The actual macro cost almost certainly lies an order of magnitude higher.

Deconstructing Misrecognition – Three Interlocking Mechanisms

Economists like tidy models and three well‑documented channels suffice to explain most of the gender gap in perceived authority. First comes role congruity bias. Decades of social psychology experiments demonstrate that people subconsciously associate “numbers plus command” with male archetypes. When a woman speaks in the clipped, equation‑laden idiom of DSGE, evaluators experience cognitive dissonance and downgrade her competence.

Second, visibility operates through feedback loops. Media producers follow a self‑referential logic: past mentions are treated as proof of expert status, so each appearance begets the next—a modest gap in 2010 snowballs by 2025 into a yawning chasm. A recent scrape of 1.8 million English‑language news articles confirms the dynamic: a single‑point deficit in initial coverage widened to 2.4 points within a decade.

Third, credentials are interpreted through a gendered lens—a phenomenon I call credential compression. This means the public reads a male economist’s MSc or PhD as evidence of macro‑policy prowess; the identical letters after a woman’s name are filed under “bean counter.” In other words, the same qualifications are perceived differently based on the holder's gender. Bohnet and Pande’s résumé experiments show identical CVs are mapped onto lower‑status roles when the candidate’s name signals femininity. It is sociology masquerading as HR.

Correctives That Match the Scale of the Problem

How, then, can the market failure be repaired? The instinctive answer—“raise awareness”—is inadequate. Instead, the profession, the media, and policy‑making bodies must re‑engineer the information architecture that feeds misrecognition. Structural changes are not just necessary, they are possible and within our reach.

Media style guides should standardize academic titles. An interviewee who has produced frontier research in identification theory deserves to be introduced as “Dr. Jane Doe, macroeconomist,” not as “Jane who crunches numbers.” The visual cue of a doctorate nudges viewers to update priors before she utters her first sentence.

Meanwhile, expert‑panel selection should rest on objective composite indices—publication impact, citation‑adjusted h‑index, and the number of central‑bank memos authored—not on the producer’s Rolodex. Algorithms can shortlist candidates using anonymized files, revealing personal identifiers only at the final stage to ensure demographic variety rather than suppress it.

Within academia, widening the pipeline remains essential but must not come at the price of diluted standards. Real‑analysis and probability boot camps, funded by elite departments and targeted at high‑potential undergraduates, can give incoming graduate cohorts—women and men from under‑represented backgrounds alike—the mathematical footing the modern discipline demands. Finally, advisory committees should publish diversity scorecards. Central banks know from the inflation‑target regime that transparency disciplines behavior; the same logic applies to expert‑panel composition.

Respect Earned Through Analytical Excellence

The environment within elite economics programs such as LSE is one of intense intellectual rigor, where exhaustion often becomes a badge of commitment. Students forge bonds over late-night derivations and cultivate a deep pride in their ability to maneuver through the technical intricacies of utility maximization and ε‑δ proofs. Yet within such demanding settings, respect is not distributed casually; it is allocated with ruthless precision to those who demonstrate genuine analytical brilliance, regardless of background or identity. When the top score on the general‑equilibrium final belonged to a woman from Peking University, everyone deferred to her in study groups. No one muttered “accountant.” The dissonance emerges outside the ivory‑tower gating mechanism, where the public’s mental shorthand still codes female faces as support staff.

Enlarging the Evidence Base – Research Imperatives

Future inquiries should push beyond binary gender splits. Intersectional analysis is overdue: does misrecognition double for a Black Frenchwoman or an Indian economist speaking with a non‑Anglophone accent? Dynamic career‑path modeling could trace PhD cohorts over forty years and convert perception gaps into lifetime earnings trajectories and downstream policy errors. And because many newsrooms now rely on AI‑powered “expert‑finder” tools, audits of those algorithms are urgent; a model trained on historically biased data will perpetuate yesterday’s injustices at machine speed.

Conclusion – Authority Must Follow Merit, or Economics Betrays Itself

Economics prides itself on allocating resources to their highest‑valued use. Talent is the rarest resource of all. To misallocate it through gendered prejudice is to violate our first principles. The Oxford‑educated, LSE‑forged economist derided as an accountant is prevented from supplying her scarce human capital where society needs it most. The bill for that error is already running into billions.

Our discipline must, therefore, direct its favorite instrument—evidence‑based policy—toward its mirror. Until the day a woman armed with stochastic calculus is instinctively introduced as the macro strategist she is, the economics profession remains trapped in a self‑inflicted market failure. And any economist worth their Lagrange multipliers knows: when markets fail, deliberate intervention becomes not merely permissible but imperative.

The original article was authored byHans Henrik Sievertsen and Sarah Smith. The English version of the article, titled "Gender and the authority of experts,” was published by CEPR on VoxEU. 

OpenAI’s New Model 'o3' Shows Double the Hallucination Rate
Shortage of High-Quality Data for Training Highlighted
Despite Efforts, Hallucination Improvement Remains Difficult for the AI Industry

OpenAI’s latest AI breakthroughs, the inference-based models o3 and o4-mini, were launched with ambitious claims: integrating visual information directly into the reasoning process. Yet, this leap in capability has come with a major flaw — a significant rise in hallucination rates. As AI models become more complex and intertwined with critical functions like decision-making and information analysis, the reliability of their outputs becomes paramount. Experts are increasingly warning that despite technological advancements, hallucinations not only persist but may become harder to detect — posing serious challenges to both AI developers and users.

Inference Models Show Higher Hallucination Rates Than Non-Inference Models

Recent internal testing by OpenAI revealed troubling findings about its new models. Through its "Person QA" benchmark test, OpenAI discovered that the o3 model hallucinated on 33% of the test questions — more than double the hallucination rates of previous inference models o1 and o3-mini, which had rates of 16% and 14.8%, respectively. Alarmingly, the o4-mini exhibited an even worse performance, hallucinating on 48% of questions — the highest hallucination rate OpenAI has ever recorded.

Even compared to the non-inference model GPT-4o, these new inference models performed worse, highlighting that while they are designed to reason more deeply, this very capability may introduce new instability. OpenAI acknowledged in their technical documentation that the new models tend to make more claims — and that the process of generating more extensive reasoning naturally opens the door to greater inaccuracies and distortions.

The launch of o3 and o4-mini on April 16 marked a significant milestone for OpenAI, introducing models capable of "thinking in images," allowing users to upload whiteboard sketches, PDF diagrams, and even low-resolution pictures for analysis. The models were designed to process visual inputs, construct logical reasoning chains, and provide coherent responses based on that analysis. However, if the hallucination problem remains unresolved, experts argue that the practical utility of these otherwise innovative models could be substantially diminished. Findings from the nonprofit AI research institute Transluce highlighted that the o3 model, when producing answers, often rationalized its actions — indicating not just error-prone reasoning but confident misinterpretations, a deeply concerning behavior for any inference-based AI system.

Performance Improvements Difficult Amid AI Model Streamlining Trend

The persistence of hallucinations points to deeper, structural problems in current AI development. The AI industry has made ongoing efforts to mitigate hallucination phenomena, yet experts agree that full elimination remains elusive.
One critical reason is the lack of high-quality, diverse datasets. AI models like o3 and o4-mini operate by identifying and extrapolating patterns from enormous data pools. As Google explains, if the data is incomplete, biased, or flawed, the AI’s predictions and outputs will reflect these imperfections — leading to hallucinations.

This problem becomes glaring in high-stakes fields like healthcare and law. For instance, if an AI model tasked with diagnosing cancer cells is trained predominantly on cancerous tissues, without sufficient examples of healthy cells, it may incorrectly label normal tissues as malignant. Similarly, in legal fields, where access to comprehensive global case law is limited, AI models tend to fabricate legal precedents or misrepresent laws.

Stanford University’s Human-Centered AI Institute (HAI) reinforced these concerns with alarming statistics: general-purpose AI models hallucinated between 58% and 82% of the time when answering law-related questions. Even models specialized in legal knowledge recorded hallucination rates between 17% and 34%, meaning even domain-specific refinement does not fully solve the issue.

Moreover, the industry’s current momentum toward rapid model releases exacerbates the challenge. Professor Choi Byung-ho from Korea University's Artificial Intelligence Research Institute pointed out that the AI sector is still very much in a phase of bold experimentation rather than refinement. Companies like OpenAI are racing to innovate and streamline their models — making them lighter, faster, and more powerful — but this acceleration often comes at the cost of quality control. Inconsistent training data quality, combined with inference models whose capabilities have yet to fully mature, ensures that hallucination remains a stubborn, unresolved risk.

Increasing Difficulty in Detecting AI Hallucinations

Perhaps even more concerning than hallucinations themselves is the growing difficulty humans face in detecting them. Reinforcement Learning from Human Feedback (RLHF) — the process by which human trainers correct and improve AI responses — has been central to AI training. However, OpenAI acknowledges that as models like ChatGPT continue to advance, their mistakes will become harder for human evaluators to spot. This is because these models are rapidly approaching a point where their accumulated knowledge may surpass that of the human reviewers themselves.

The AI industry's concern is not merely that hallucinations will grow more frequent; it is that human beings may no longer be able to discern when an AI-generated statement is fabricated. As AI models confidently generate more complex and nuanced outputs, superficial plausibility can mask deep inaccuracies — making unchecked hallucinations potentially dangerous.

To address this looming threat, OpenAI introduced CriticGPT, a tool specifically trained to detect errors in AI-generated content. Early testing showed that humans assisted by CriticGPT performed 60% better in identifying problems than those working alone. Yet, OpenAI emphasizes that CriticGPT is not intended to replace human oversight but rather to enhance human evaluators' capabilities — enabling more thorough critiques and helping reduce hallucination bugs that might otherwise slip by unnoticed.

Still, some experts caution that relying on one AI system to monitor another introduces its own risks. Increased dependence on AI oversight could lead to a dangerous feedback loop where errors become mutually reinforced rather than corrected. Morgan Stanley’s recent move to deploy generative AI tools to transcribe and summarize client meetings serves as a cautionary example. Aaron Kirksena, CEO of MDRM Capital, noted that relying on multiple AI systems — such as those developed by Zoom, Google, Microsoft, and Apple — could produce conflicting outputs or allow shared flaws to go undetected. In an ecosystem where humans gradually relinquish direct oversight to AI supervisors, the potential for compounded errors grows substantially.

Ultimately, the "Inference Model Dilemma" highlights a critical paradox at the heart of modern AI development: as models grow more capable, they simultaneously become harder to trust — and even harder for humans to effectively supervise.

Harvard Strikes Back Against Trump Administration’s Targeted Pressure
Files Lawsuit Against Secretaries of Health, Education, and Justice
“We Will Not Surrender Our Institutional Independence”

After the Trump administration froze over $3 trillion in federal funding to universities, demanding the removal of what it called “leftist influences” such as anti-Israel sentiment, Harvard University filed a lawsuit in federal court. The university argues that the administration’s actions are procedurally improper and unconstitutional, as they pose a grave threat to academic autonomy and violate institutional rights.

Harvard University Sues Trump Administration Over Alleged Federal Overreach

Harvard University has filed a lawsuit against the Trump administration, challenging the federal government’s decision to freeze billions of dollars in funding after the university refused to comply with controversial policy demands.

On April 21, Harvard President Alan Garber issued a statement announcing the lawsuit, stating, “Last week, after Harvard declined to accept illegal demands from the federal government, several retaliatory measures were taken. These actions exceed lawful authority, and we are now asking the court to halt the suspension of federal support.” The lawsuit names multiple federal agencies as defendants, including the Departments of Education, Health and Human Services (HHS), Justice, Energy, and the General Services Administration (GSA).

Garber warned that freezing research grants would have “grave and lasting consequences” not only for patients, students, faculty, and researchers, but also for the standing of U.S. higher education as a whole. “The abuse of governmental authority will have serious long-term impacts,” he said.

The complaint, made public on the same day, alleges that the federal government unlawfully suspended funding to coerce Harvard into altering its academic programs and campus policies. While faculty at Harvard and Columbia have previously filed suits challenging the administration’s actions, this marks the first time Harvard University itself has taken direct legal action.

Administration Weighs Freezing an Additional $1 Billion in Federal Grants

The lawsuit follows months of escalating tensions between Harvard and the Trump administration. The administration initially demanded changes to the university’s admissions process, faculty hiring, and particularly its Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) policies—linking the demands to alleged failures to combat antisemitism on campus.

After Harvard refused to comply, the administration canceled a $2.7 million Department of Homeland Security grant and froze an additional $2.2 billion in federal research funding. Officials are also reportedly considering revoking $1 billion in health-related grants and threatening further penalties, including revoking Harvard’s tax-exempt status and restricting foreign student admissions. These actions, if enacted, could cost the university billions of dollars in funding.

The Trump administration has justified its crackdown as a response to “the university’s failure to protect Jewish students during recent pro-Palestinian demonstrations.” However, critics argue that the administration is using antisemitism as a pretext to dismantle academic independence and DEI initiatives across higher education.

A Mistaken Letter Sparks a Constitutional Showdown

The dispute began with the accidental transmission of a draft letter from a federal antisemitism task force. The letter, intended for internal circulation, was mistakenly sent to Harvard by HHS legal counsel Sean Kebeini. It outlined demands for sweeping policy changes, which Harvard interpreted as an official communication from the federal government.

The White House claimed the letter was sent in error, but Harvard rejected that explanation. “This letter bore signatures from three federal officials, was formatted as a formal directive, and was transmitted via email from a senior federal official,” the university said in a statement. “Under those circumstances, no reasonable recipient would doubt its authenticity.”

Even if the letter were sent mistakenly, Harvard argues that subsequent federal actions—including the funding freeze—indicate that the administration treated the demands as legitimate. “Actions speak louder than words,” the university noted, adding that the government had since “doubled down” on its pressure campaign.

White House strategist May Mailman criticized Harvard’s response, saying the university had “played the victim without even verifying the letter’s intent.” She suggested that Harvard’s legal team should have reached out to clarify the issue rather than launching a lawsuit.

But the university maintains that the government’s moves have had tangible consequences, regardless of how the letter was sent. “Even if the administration now claims the demands were a mistake, the impact of their subsequent actions on students, faculty, and the reputation of American higher education has already been significant,” the statement reads.

As the case heads to court, legal scholars say it could set a critical precedent for the limits of executive power over educational institutions, particularly in an election year where the culture wars surrounding DEI, free speech, and academic autonomy continue to intensify.