What Harvard Learned From Columbia’s Mistake
When Columbia University agreed to share student visa records with federal immigration officials in 2017, administrators believed they were navigating a delicate balancing act. The Trump administration had threatened to withhold funding from institutions that resisted its stricter enforcement of immigration policies. Columbia, like many universities, initially opted for cautious cooperation, hoping to preserve relationships with federal agencies while protecting vulnerable students. But over time, it became clear that compromise only emboldened further demands. By 2020, Harvard University—observing Columbia’s struggles—chose a radically different path. Their divergence offers a revealing lesson: When cooperation fails to yield goodwill, doubling down on institutional values might be the only viable defense.
The Perils of Playing Nice
Columbia’s decision to comply with federal requests stemmed from pragmatism. With billions in research funding and student financial aid tied to federal programs, universities rely heavily on government partnerships. When the Trump administration introduced policies targeting international students—including travel bans, proposed limits on Optional Practical Training (OPT) programs, and aggressive visa vetting—Columbia aimed to avoid public clashes. Administrators quietly shared limited data, believing transparency might ease tensions.
But the strategy backfired. Federal agencies began treating Columbia’s cooperation as a precedent, demanding increasingly invasive access to student records and disciplinary files. When the university pushed back, citing privacy concerns, officials retaliated by delaying visa renewals for admitted students and launching “compliance audits” that disrupted campus operations. Columbia found itself trapped: Its attempts to appease the administration had only legitimized unreasonable demands.
Harvard’s Calculated Defiance
By contrast, Harvard responded to similar pressures with open resistance. When federal agents demanded information about international students in 2019, Harvard’s legal team refused, arguing that the requests violated student privacy and institutional autonomy. The university then joined lawsuits challenging the administration’s attempts to revoke visas for online learners during the COVID-19 pandemic.
This unyielding stance wasn’t impulsive. Harvard had watched Columbia’s concessions fail to shield it from escalating scrutiny. “Compliance doesn’t build trust—it sets expectations,” remarked a former Harvard advisor. “If you give an inch, they’ll ask for a mile.” By refusing to capitulate early, Harvard avoided setting precedents that could be weaponized later. Instead, it leveraged its legal and financial resources to fight demands in court, betting that protracted battles would deter overreach.
Why Capitulation Rarely Pays
The differing outcomes for Columbia and Harvard underscore a harsh reality: Negotiating with bad-faith actors often backfires. Columbia’s attempts to “meet halfway” were interpreted as weakness, not goodwill. Federal agencies exploited the university’s reluctance to escalate, testing how far they could push before facing real resistance.
This dynamic isn’t unique to higher education. Psychological studies show that appeasement strategies—whether in diplomacy or everyday conflict—often empower aggressors. By contrast, clear boundaries force opponents to weigh the costs of confrontation. Harvard’s refusal to comply shifted the burden: Federal officials now had to decide whether harassing a wealthy, influential institution was worth the legal and political blowback.
The Power of Institutional Unity
Critically, Harvard’s defiance succeeded because it united stakeholders. Faculty, alumni, and students overwhelmingly supported the administration’s stance, framing the issue as a defense of academic freedom. When the government threatened to withhold COVID relief funds from schools protecting undocumented students, Harvard’s donors stepped in to fill potential gaps. This solidarity sent a message: Attempts to intimidate the university would mobilize its vast network of allies.
Columbia, meanwhile, faced internal dissent. Some professors criticized its early cooperation as morally indefensible, while others worried about losing federal grants. This division weakened its bargaining position, allowing federal officials to exploit inconsistencies.
Lessons for the Future
Harvard’s approach offers a blueprint for institutions navigating hostile political climates:
1. Define non-negotiables early. Clear policies prevent ambiguous demands from gaining traction.
2. Invest in legal preparedness. Litigation costs money, but precedents can protect long-term interests.
3. Cultivate stakeholder alliances. Unified fronts deter adversaries accustomed to exploiting division.
Columbia’s experience also holds warnings. Cooperation isn’t inherently wrong, but it requires discernment. If concessions won’t earn respect—or worse, invite exploitation—institutions must recognize when diplomacy has failed.
Conclusion
The Trump era tested universities’ ability to uphold their values under pressure. Columbia’s missteps revealed the risks of prioritizing short-term peace over principle. Harvard, learning from its peer’s ordeal, demonstrated that sometimes the strongest defense is a refusal to play by rules designed to undermine you. For institutions navigating similar challenges, the lesson is clear: When cooperation becomes capitulation, resistance isn’t just ethical—it’s strategic.
Please indicate: Thinking In Educating » What Harvard Learned From Columbia’s Mistake