What Good Is a University Without Students?

I began the college search process in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic. Even during those “unprecedented times,” I was confident that universities would continue to exist in some meaningful form, as indeed they mostly did.

But now, as I and many of my peers prepare to apply for PhD and other graduate programs, I can no longer say with the same certainty that the academic and career path I am pursuing will be around much longer.

Harvard, despite its financial strength, is sacrificing its responsibility to educate the next generation of academics, all the while forging ahead with infrastructure development.

Around the country, graduate programs are restricting or halting admissions altogether.

Columbia University proposed cutting up to 65 percent of incoming Graduate School of Arts and Sciences PhD cohorts, according to Student Workers of Columbia United Auto Workers, before promising to scale back the initially proposed cuts. Vanderbilt University and the University of Pennsylvania have reportedly also slowed or cut graduate admissions. These cuts reflect broader financial trends in higher education. The current administration has already rolled back federal funding for research, and as a result, universities are forced to make difficult financial decisions.

Harvard, fortunately, has not paused admissions altogether. It has, however, made significant cuts in other areas, such as by rejecting its entire waitlist of graduate program applicants and enacting a University-wide faculty and staff hiring freeze.

I have written previously about how Harvard should not comply when Trump issues straightforwardly-reprehensible executive orders. After the last several weeks — in which we have also seen lawful residents of the country detained after engaging in student protests — I am only more resolute in my belief that Harvard must stand firm against harmful political pressures.

Still, as I acknowledged then, defying these orders may come with real financial consequences. It may seem odd, then, that I am now saying Harvard is being too fiscally cautious.

Indeed, it is easy to look at a $53 billion endowment and think that Harvard has infinite wealth — it is certainly an unfathomable sum to the average person or even many small countries. It is equally easy to play armchair accountant and direct money via the pages of The Crimson. There are complexities to Harvard’s budget like endowment restrictions, and there is a difference in what it means to spend on large, one-off capital projects versus ordinary operating expenses.

Still, I think it is essential to address the message that Harvard is sending when it continues to invest in massive, expensive, and community-disrupting infrastructure projects while simultaneously claiming it cannot support crucial faculty hires nor admit students to its PhD programs.

Harvard is currently developing over two million square feet of property. Beyond the ethical issues of building in an existing neighborhood, the question of Harvard’s financial priorities is crucial. In the long run, new buildings may mean a greater capacity to educate more students with more housing and research space. But, as the economist John Maynard Keynes famously said, “in the long run we are all dead.”

Harvard need not abandon caution altogether, but it should not allow fears of financial instability to drive decisions that may cause lasting damage to academia. Setting a norm of restricting PhD admissions and ceasing to hire new professors does real damage to the system of higher education at an already precarious time.

It is clear that the University is prioritizing its infrastructure over its core mission — educating and supporting students and faculty. Harvard’s most important area of growth should be its student body, including at the graduate level.

With its recent decision to expand financial aid to undergraduate students — offering free attendance to students whose families earn $100,000 or less and free tuition to those earning $200,000 or less — Harvard has acknowledged the importance of directing funds towards students, even in times of crisis.

This move is a step in the right direction, but it does not undo the damage of other recent cuts — decisions that have real, measurable consequences for higher education across the country.

When Harvard moves, others listen. It has a unique obligation to set the tone for higher education, and by yielding to temporary financial concerns while continuing to spend on lavish new developments, Harvard is sending the wrong message.

Departments must ensure core subject areas have the faculty necessary to teach them, and as an institution, Harvard has an obligation to continue to educate the next generation of top-flight academics.

It’s not just about optics — it’s about the reality of what happens when a major institution like Harvard sets a precedent that some essential academic programs are expendable. Even if Harvard is too invested to stop building new facilities now, it must take a hard look at its priorities and ensure that its educational mission remains intact.

Harvard’s future is built on the minds it nurtures — buildings are great, but they need people to fill them.

Allison P. Farrell ’26, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a Philosophy concentrator in Leverett House.