When University Presidents Bite the Hand That Feeds Them

Michael Roth has built his reputation as Wesleyan University's president on principled stands. He's championed liberal arts education, defended open inquiry, and even supported affirmative action for conservatives. When the Trump administration tried to deploy "ideological auditors" on campuses, Roth fought back hard.

So his recent letter defending the Mellon Foundation came as a surprise. In response to criticism of Mellon's "scholar-activist" agenda, Roth dismissed the concerns as "fantasies" and compared the critic to segregationist Senator Jesse Helms—a rhetorical move that seemed beneath someone known for thoughtful discourse.

The Billion-Dollar Ideological Shift

The Mellon Foundation underwent a dramatic transformation after 2018, when poet Elizabeth Alexander became its president. By 2020, Alexander declared that Mellon would prioritize "social justice in all of its grantmaking." Given that Mellon is America's largest humanities funder—larger even than the federal government—this shift sent shockwaves through academia.

The foundation's de facto monopoly creates a stark choice for scholars: align your research with progressive causes or risk losing funding. Universities, meanwhile, have been redesigning curricula and embracing hyper-progressive teaching methods to attract seven-figure donations.

Roth inadvertently acknowledges this dynamic: "Grant applicants often inflect their application to appeal to a funder," he writes. But he frames this as business as usual rather than intellectual coercion.

The Price of Principle

What Roth doesn't mention is revealing. Wesleyan has received nearly $5 million from Mellon under Alexander's tenure, part of more than $13 million total since Roth became president in 2007. While he highlights a modest $279,000 botanicals project, he omits the million-dollar grants for implementing social justice curriculum and "antiracism practices" leadership training.

The irony is striking: a university president who rails against "ideological auditors" seems comfortable with them when they're writing the checks.

Defending the Indefensible

Roth's letter reads more like damage control than intellectual defense. He attacks the critic's character rather than addressing substantive concerns about projects like UC Davis's "Trans Liberation in an Age of Fascism" or Portland State University's gender studies department becoming "ungovernable."

He doesn't explain how Wesleyan's Mellon-funded "Embodying Antiracism" initiative has contributed to campus life. He can't—or won't—articulate why Mellon's behavior differs meaningfully from other assaults on academic freedom he rightly condemns.

The Elite University Shell Game

The deeper issue isn't just about Mellon—it's about how elite universities operate. These institutions, charging nearly $100,000 annually, use social justice initiatives as moral laundrettes. They bleach away the sins of institutions whose primary function isn't addressing racism but fundraising and reproducing their donor class.

Scholar-activism and DEI programs rarely produce meaningful change. They're performance pieces for wealthy donors who want to feel good about their contributions while maintaining systems that perpetuate inequality.

Money Talks, Principles Walk

The most damning evidence of these programs' inefficacy? Roth's own response. A million dollars of Mellon-funded "antiracist leadership training" wasn't enough to prevent Wesleyan's leader from comparing a Black journalist to Jesse Helms.

This isn't just about one foundation or one university. It's about a broader pattern where financial incentives shape academic discourse. Whether it's government funding tied to political priorities or foundation grants requiring ideological alignment, the result is the same: scholars and institutions bending their principles for dollars.

The International Perspective

This dynamic isn't unique to America. Universities worldwide face similar pressures from government funding bodies, corporate sponsors, and wealthy donors. In some countries, the strings attached to money are even more explicit—research must serve national priorities or economic development goals.

What makes the American case particularly troubling is the pretense of independence. Universities market themselves as bastions of free inquiry while quietly adjusting their research and teaching to satisfy funders' ideological preferences.