GOP megabill takes aim at universities — except for this conservative Christian college
President Donald Trump and Republicans in Congress are angling to use their megabill to turn the screws on elite liberal colleges that take millions in taxpayer funds while sitting on endowments worth tens of billions of dollars. But a single college that's a paragon of conservative higher education has managed to secure a carveout after finding itself in the crossfire.
Hillsdale College, a Christian liberal arts school of fewer than 2,000 students located in southern Michigan, is one of a slew of smaller institutions that had been working to avoid being swept up in the GOP effort to raise taxes on the seemingly bottomless endowments of household names like Harvard, Princeton and Yale.
But Hillsdale stands apart from those schools: For one, it's a rare institution of higher learning that the modern Republican Party applauds. Just as uncommon, Hillsdale accepts no funding from the federal government: 'The founders of our nation chose independence. As do we,' the college boasts in advertisements.
That formed the crux of its argument that, on principle, Hillsdale and schools like it should not be subject to a federal tax on endowments. Senate Republicans heeded that logic in their version of the reconciliation bill that the party hopes to send to Trump's desk next week by including an exemption for schools that fit Hillsdale's profile.
The reprieve is by no means guaranteed, as Hillsdale found out eight years ago. Democrats that year seized on the university's unique position, branding the exemption as an earmark for a political ally and ultimately getting it stripped from the 2017 Tax Cuts and Jobs Act with the help of a handful of Republican senators.
That's why Hillsdale turned earlier this year to professional advocates for help with the latest endowment tax proposal.
In April, the college retained Williams and Jensen to lobby on 'specific threats to the institutional and financial independence of the college, primarily related to the higher education endowment tax,' according to a disclosure filing.
The team of lobbyists working on the account includes Dan Ziegler, who served as House Speaker Mike Johnson's top policy aide before returning to the lobbying firm in March, and who previously served as executive director of the conservative Republican Study Committee.
In its meetings with policymakers, Hillsdale has reiterated its general opposition to using the tax code as a blunt force object — reaching often for the declaration from former Supreme Court Chief Justice John Marshall that 'the power to tax involves the power to destroy.'
Beyond that, it has stuck to its insistence that schools that have sworn off taxpayer money should be left out of the endowment tax scheme altogether. That could end up incentivizing more institutions to follow in Hillsdale's footsteps — especially with the Trump administration taking aim at colleges' federal funding — whereas a tax hike might throw up financial roadblocks for schools who might be eyeing a move toward independence.
Hillsdale's message has landed favorably on the Hill, according to a person familiar with those discussions who was granted anonymity to discuss sensitive deliberations. The person noted that the school hadn't encountered much opposition to its position on principle.
Failing to exempt schools that don't accept federal funds 'penalizes most severely those institutions that have chosen the harder path of independence' from the federal government and the conditions of accepting that money, Hillsdale President Larry Arnn wrote in an op-ed in May.
'Worse still,' he added, 'this tax turns the incentives backward; it rewards dependence and punishes self-reliance. It encourages institutions to seek the shelter of government aid, where subsidies can offset tax burdens.'
Hillsdale declined to comment on the record.
Hillsdale has proudly touted its independence for refusing direct government funds since its founding by abolitionists in 1844.
In the 1980s, Hillsdale was faced with a Supreme Court civil rights ruling that would've required universities to track admissions by race and bar sex-based discrimination in order to accept federal financial aid from students. In response, the school declared that it would no longer accept such assistance.
Hillsdale's break from what it calls governmental overreach has made it at home with the right. Conservative luminary William Buckley donated much of his lifetime of writings to the school in the early 2000s. In 2016, Hillsdale hosted Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas as its commencement speaker.
More recently, Republican leaders like Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis have sought to recreate versions of Hillsdale in their home states and to integrate its curriculum in K-12 classrooms.
Hillsdale graduates are scattered throughout Washington, including in the offices of the top Republicans in Congress. Michael Anton, who joined Hillsdale's D.C. outpost after working in the first Trump administration (though he's not a Hillsdale grad himself), was tapped in April to lead the U.S. technical team in nuclear negotiations with Iran.
The university regularly advertises its free online courses on subjects like ancient Christianity and the Biblical book of Genesis on Fox News, and rents various conservative email lists. Arnn, a co-founder of the conservative think tank the Claremont Institute, was even considered for Education secretary in Trump's first administration. Trump's eventual Education secretary, Betsy DeVos, has her own familial and financial ties to Hillsdale.
In Trump 2.0, the universityhas partnered with the White House and the Education Department on an educational video series to promote the 250th anniversary of America's founding. The most recent installment, focused on the founding of the U.S. Army, featured Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth.
Even with those credentials, as the GOP continues tinkering with the bill ahead of final passage, there's one hitch that could complicate things: At least right now, there aren't believed to be any other schools besides Hillsdale that don't accept federal cash and have large enough endowments that they're at risk of being hit by the endowment tax.
Wealthy universities were first hit with a 1.4 percent excise on their endowments as part of the 2017 GOP tax bill. Given that the relationship between Republicans and higher education has only crumbled in the years since, colleges across the country had already been bracing for Republicans to take another swing at the excise tax in negotiations to renew expiring provisions in the Tax Cuts and Jobs Act.
There's a tranche of smaller colleges that would be hit hard by an endowment tax hike and are trying to distance themselves from the Ivies in conservatives' crosshairs.
But even though Hillsdale would likely benefit from some of the endowment tax changes those schools have pitched lawmakers on, including sparing schools smaller student bodies, the college has thus far declined to take other schools up on overtures to join their coalitions as it leaned on its more unique messaging.
Hillsdale isn't in the clear yet. There are questions about whether several of Republicans' changes to the endowment tax are allowed under the arcane procedural rules of the reconciliation process. The exclusion was not included in the House version of the bill, and not much is set in stone amid horsetrading within the conference.
The specter of the last Republican tax debate also looms large given Hillsdale's distinctive position.
Earlier versions of the 2017 Tax Cuts and Jobs Act would have subjected schools with endowments of at least $250,000 per student to the excise tax. But during floor debate in the Senate, Sen. Ted Cruz (R-Texas) — who received an honorary degree from Hillsdale in 2013 — and then-Sen. Pat Toomey (R-Pa.) introduced an amendment that would have exempted from the tax any otherwise-eligible schools that don't take federal funding.
The amendment triggered an outcry from Senate Democrats, who pointed out that the only university that would apply to was Hillsdale.
Four Republican senators ended up voting with all Democrats to sink the amendment.
Hillsdale still managed to luck out, but only temporarily, thanks to language in the final bill that raised the threshold for the tax to $500,000.
The House reconciliation bill retains that threshold for the 1.4 percent tax, but neither measure indexes it to inflation, effectively lowering the threshold as time goes on. Hillsdale's endowment finally reached eligibility a few years ago, and much further down the line, other schools that have sworn off federal funding may eventually join it.
If the Senate version prevails, however, Hillsdale would pay nothing.
In Arnn's May op-ed, he wrote that the House-passed reconciliation bill leaves 'untouched the vast web of colleges and universities sustained by taxpayer dollars, often bloated with bureaucracies committed to fashionable ideas, far removed from the purposes of education.'
Ironically, some of the biggest winners out of the Senate's version of the endowment tax — aside from Hillsdale — were schools with the biggest endowments, like Harvard, that would have seen their tax rate soar to 21 percent under the House bill. Senate Republicans softened the tax hike to less than 10 percent for the wealthiest universities.
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(She used to joke with me when we were colleagues that I was the college's resident lightning rod, and she had no interest in taking over that job.) She's a philosopher who admires quiet stoicism, and she was resolved to employ it in her final months. But she also thought about what she owed her chair's namesake. 'Stockdale thought philosophy was important for officers. The Stockdale course was created so that officers would wrestle with moral obligations. He was a personal model of integrity.' Even so, she did not try to invoke him as a patron saint when she decided to resign. 'I'm not saying he would agree with the choice that I made,' she told me. 'But his model of moral integrity is part of the chair.' She kept her resignation private until early May, when a professor at the U.S. Military Academy at West Point, Graham Parsons—another scholar who teaches ethics in a military school, and a friend of Pauline's—likewise decided to resign in protest and said that he would leave West Point after 13 years. Hegseth's changes 'prevent me from doing my job responsibly,' he wrote in The New York Times. 'I am ashamed to be associated with the academy in its current form.' Hegseth responded on X, sounding more like a smug internet troll than a concerned superior: 'You will not be missed Professor Parsons.' The episode changed Pauline's mind. She felt she owed her friends and colleagues whatever public support and solidarity she could offer them. Nor are she and Parsons alone. Tom McCarthy, a professor at the U.S. Naval Academy, in Annapolis, Maryland, recently resigned as chair of the history department rather than remove a paper from an upcoming symposium. And last month, a senior scholar at the Army War College, in Pennsylvania, Carrie Lee, also handed in her resignation, a decision she announced to her friends and followers on Bluesky. Jason Dempsey: Hegseth has all the wrong enemies Lee told me in an email that she'd been thinking of leaving after Trump was elected, because it was apparent to her that the Trump administration was 'going to try and politicize the military and use military assets/personnel to suppress democratic rights,' and that academic freedom in military schools was soon to 'become untenable.' Like Pauline, Lee felt like she was at a dead end: 'To speak from within the institution itself will also do more harm than good. So to dissent, I have little choice but to leave,' she said in a farewell letter to her colleagues in April. I asked Pauline what she thinks might have happened if she had decided to stay and just tough it out from the inside. She 'absolutely' thinks she'd have been fired at some point, and she didn't want such a firing 'to be part of the legacy of the Stockdale Chair.' But then I asked her if by resigning, she was giving people in the Trump administration, such as Office of Management and Budget Director Russell Vought—who once said that his goal was to make federal workers feel 'trauma' to the point where they will quit their jobs—exactly what they want: Americans leaving federal service. She didn't care. 'When you make a moral decision, there are always costs.' She dismissed what people like Vought want or think. 'I'm not accountable to him. I'm accountable to the Lord, to my father, to my legacy, to my children, to my profession, to members of the military-ethics community. So I decided that I needed to resign. Not that it would change anyone's mind, but to say: This is not okay. That is my message.' At the end of our discussion, I asked an uncomfortable question I'd been avoiding. Pauline, I know, is only in her mid-50s, in mid-career, and too young simply to retire. She has raised two sons who will soon enter young adulthood. I asked her if she was worried about her future. 'Sure,' she said. 'But at the end of the day, as we say in Montana, sometimes you just have to saddle up and ride scared.'