Columbia's Failed Leadership Model
It’s almost unsurprising that violent protests have broken out again at Columbia University, that well-known epicenter of campus antisemitism. This time, however, students’ complaints sound less like bleeding-heart activism and more like petulant entitlement.
On February 26, dozens of students stormed Barnard College’s historic Milbank Hall, assaulted a staff member, and occupied the building. The administration, ignoring its own security officers’ recommendations, refused to call the police. Instead, they met with students, offered numerous concessions, and agreed to later negotiations that appear to have failed, as similar protests have continued.
At first glance, this seems almost business as usual for Columbia. However, this time the inciting incident wasn’t activity in Gaza, but the administration’s attempt to impose consequences by expelling two students who had disrupted classes and distributed violent, antisemitic propaganda. This latest wave of extremism isn’t about a sociopolitical cause — it’s simply rebellion against accountability, proof of higher education’s ongoing failure to appropriately and authoritatively develop the young people in their charge.
It’s tempting to blame Columbia itself, given its history of antisemitism, but similar student disruptions, unrelated to Israel or Jews, are happening elsewhere, like Stanford University, where activists shut down a class (ironically titled Democracy and Disagreement) on fiscal policy. Columbia’s current unrest is only the latest symptom of higher ed’s deeper institutional failure.
Higher education has long been considered to stand in loco parentis, “in the place of parents,” meaning that, while institutions must respect students’ rights, they also bear responsibility for students’ personal and ethical development into thoughtful adults who can meaningfully contribute to society. Instead, however, universities have shifted toward a permissive parenting model, especially with student protests, abandoning not just student development but basic accountability for misbehavior, even for serious offenses like disrupting classes or destroying school property.
We’ve long known that permissive parenting creates delinquency. Why should it be at all surprising that permissive in loco parentis has done the same? Some universities, like Florida State and Rice University, recognized this by enforcing clear policies and penalties for disruptions, clearly delineating the boundaries between protest and rioting. Columbia, however, is learning the cost of failing to do so.
This doesn’t mean that higher education should quash peaceful protests or favor one side of the Israel/Palestine issue. Indeed, the mission of education requires that learning institutions train students to confront and wrestle with difficult ideas. If student protests were being held in this spirit, they would look much different.
The Pro-Palestinian (as distinct from Pro-Hamas) movement has several voices, such as Bassem Eid, Ahmed Fouad Alkhatib, Rami Aman, and Hamza Howdy, who all advocate for the Palestinian cause without intimidation, vandalism, or supporting terrorism. However, these figures haven’t been invited to campus protests, demonstrating that student protestors aren’t interested in meaningful activism or the sort of intellectually humble, curiosity-driven pursuit of truth that higher education is supposed to enable. Instead, these “activists” want to throw violent tantrums without facing consequences. Higher ed’s indulging this behavior hasn’t just created a hostile environment for Jewish students (although it has); it fundamentally betrays our public charge and duty to stand in loco parentis.
I’ve taught and researched in higher education for nearly a decade and now work explicitly in Student Development. I understand the appeal of permissiveness, because it’s easy. After all, tolerating tantrums, whether it’s a child throwing plastic crockery over ice cream or students seizing a building and assaulting staff, can seem like the simpler path. The long, involved, and often painful process of enforcing consequences is far less appealing. As with my own children, it’s tempting to shield students from the consequences of their own foolishness or immaturity rather than impose discipline with potentially life-altering repercussions.
I understand why Columbia’s administration — and so many others in higher ed — would rather pacify protestors than hold them accountable. But such permissiveness — and the dereliction of duty it represents — only makes the problem worse.
University leaders can no longer claim surprise at predictable crises. Few would have predicted that the worst murder of Jews since the Holocaust would be celebrated on campuses a day later, but over a year after October 7th, the pattern is painfully clear, and universities can’t afford inaction. Beyond simple steps like banning masks, schools must clearly distinguish civic activism from rioting in both classroom education and campus policy. When students do violate these norms, consequences must be swift and consistent, regardless of ideology or cause.
This is not about suppressing free speech but reinforcing the basic lines of decency that allow for real civic engagement instead of mob coercion. Columbia’s failure to do so has now emboldened more radical activism, becoming merely the latest demonstration that permissive campus leadership invites further chaos.
To fulfill its in loco parentis role, higher ed must be neither permissive nor authoritarian. Instead, it must be authoritative, both offering structure and resources and enforcing discipline when necessary. That doesn’t mean telling our students what to think, but it absolutely does mean teaching them how to think, and even more importantly, how to act, especially regarding difficult issues like Israel Palestine. By refusing to inflict consequences before student extremism reaches outright antisemitism, we aren’t just failing the Jewish students who must now suffer calls to “globalize the Intifada.” We are fundamentally failing ourselves by refusing to fulfill our calling to stand in loco parentis and develop the students in our care.
We’re approaching a critical juncture, perhaps even a point of no return. The Barnard College incident erupted because the university finally attempted to hold students accountable after over a year without accountability. The accountability process has become even more contentious after the Trump administration’s involvement. With funding being threatened and students being arrested and even deported, Higher education now faces the same reckoning of a permissive parent confronted with their progeny held in handcuffs by a dour-faced police officer.
Because these consequences come from a right-wing administration, it is tempting to deflect by blaming the president, the government, or public outrage. It’s far easier to dismiss these consequences as a partisan issue rather than do the difficult work of accepting our own failures and putting our own house in order. Such excuses, however, have worn thin. For higher education to survive, consequences will be necessary, whether we like it or not. The question is: will we correct our own failures, or will others do it for us?
