Over the past few decades, global higher education has made remarkable strides. More and more people have been able to step onto university campuses and seize the transformative power of knowledge. Yet, in recent years, the core principle of equity has come under relentless attack, as if dark shadows from history are creeping back to cloud the academic sanctuaries we hold dear.
Equity and equality in higher education were once regarded as self-evident values. But looking back, we remember the grim chapters when these principles were brutally suppressed—during Nazi Germany’s reign, the McCarthy era in the United States, and the Chinese Cultural Revolution. Now, amid the sweeping wave of the so-called "anti-woke" cultural backlash, equity is once again on the front lines.
I recall a friend named Emily, a student leader at a public university in America’s Midwest. Coming from a modest working-class family, Emily is the first in her household to attend college. She often shared how programs designed to support low-income students gave her not only financial relief but also a sense of respect and belonging on campus. But lately, Emily has seen those very programs face cuts and exclusion—replaced by an indifferent and sometimes hostile atmosphere.
This rollback of equity in education isn’t limited to one country. Across Europe, under pressure from the U.S. government, many universities have been forced to scale back or even cancel diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) initiatives. The U.S. government has explicitly warned European institutions that continuing DEI programs might jeopardize their eligibility for research partnerships with American universities. This external pressure puts university leaders in a difficult position, forcing them to choose between academic freedom and funding.
Elsewhere, the situation is even bleaker. Since 2021, women in Afghanistan have been completely barred from attending university, stripped of their most basic right to education. In Poland and parts of the U.S. governed by Republican leadership, LGBTQ+ communities face persecution, and related courses are banned or defunded. Such realities evoke chilling echoes of past dark times, raising deep concerns for the future.
Yet, amid these headwinds, there are still pockets of resistance. After years of educational suppression, Poland’s newly elected government reversed many of the previous measures. Some U.S. universities, constrained by Supreme Court rulings banning the explicit use of race in admissions, now focus on first-generation college students as a proxy—indirectly supporting minorities who might otherwise be overlooked. This creative workaround demonstrates the persistence and ingenuity of educators and policymakers.
In the UK, prestigious institutions like Oxford and Cambridge still enroll only about 18% first-generation students, despite the national average nearing 48%. This gap reveals the lingering challenge even the world’s top universities face in achieving equity. In contrast, American community colleges tell a different story—39% of their students are first-generation, showing their crucial role in expanding access to higher education.
Equity should never be seen as the enemy of academic excellence. At the University of California, Berkeley, the proportion of low-income students is roughly three times higher than at Harvard—an inspiring example of how inclusion and excellence can go hand in hand. Research shows that diverse student bodies enhance critical thinking and academic performance. Incorporating equity into quality assurance standards is essential—not only to foster academic progress but also to ensure higher education remains a powerful engine of social transformation.
I know Tom, a young professor in Australia, whose university actively promotes equity. They offer scholarships for low-income students and build support networks to help them overcome cultural and economic hurdles. Tom often says, “Seeing those students graduate and change the course of their lives and families—that’s what education is truly about.”
At the same time, international networks like the World Access to Higher Education Network (WAHEN) play a vital role. By pooling best practices and robust evidence from across the globe, they provide a powerful shield against the rising tide of anti-equity sentiment. These efforts act as a vaccine, protecting vulnerable students and the very future of education itself.
The challenges remain daunting. Cuts to funding, program closures, and attacks on academic freedom create an atmosphere of fear and uncertainty. In this climate, countries with strong democratic institutions and international legal commitments stand as the best bulwarks defending equity.
Ultimately, every educator, student, and citizen can be part of this crucial struggle. Whether advocating for inclusive policies on campus or raising awareness in the wider society, every effort counts. Higher education is not just about passing on knowledge—it is about safeguarding fairness, dignity, and hope.
Thinking back to Emily’s story, I remain hopeful. With more young people like her standing up for equity, engaging in reform, the future of higher education can still shine bright. Even in the darkest storms, the light of fairness will break through and illuminate every heart that longs for change.