Colleges brace for a harsh new reality as higher ed recession — or depression — looms
Higher education institutions like Clark University are rethinking how they operate as enrollment slips, costs climb, and politics threaten international students, research funding, and financial aid.

On Main Street in Worcester, Massachusetts, a Salvadoran bakery sits right next to a Chinese takeout joint, just around the corner from Vietnamese and Dominican restaurants — a sign of Clark University’s international flavor.
“Internationalization is a good thing,” said Cyril Ghosh, a political science professor, who came to the U.S. from India as a student 25 years ago.
“I’m proud of the fact that I walk around campus and it’s extremely diverse,” he said, sitting near a campus statue of Sigmund Freud, who delivered his only U.S. lectures here in German in 1909.
Now, as a faculty member, Ghosh worries America is losing its edge as a destination for global talent.
“The whole world thinks this,” he said, noting that Europeans and Canadians have capitalized on the chance to recruit scientists.
Clark’s hard-earned international identity is at risk. More than a third of its undergrads and two-thirds of its graduate students come from abroad. But many may not return this fall because of visa delays and growing skepticism about the U.S. as a study destination.
Universities like Clark are facing their toughest stretch in years. Enrollment is slipping, costs are climbing, and now politics are threatening international students, research funding, and financial aid. A new report from the International Association of Educators projects the U.S. could lose $7 billion — and 60,000 jobs — from a 15% drop in international students next year. That would hit colleges’ budgets and research, as well as America’s global competitiveness.
At Clark, that squeeze is already forcing some big changes this semester.
“One of the real concerns is the timing,” said Clark President David Fithian. The liberal arts school is bracing for fewer students from abroad, in part because of visa delays. “Whether it’s visa issues or the perception that America may not be the best place right now, we’re expecting some negative effects. We’re prepared to deal with that financially.”
Clark is one example of how higher education institutions are rethinking their business models amid converging, unprecedented circumstances.
Beyond the expected decline in international enrollment, Clark is also preparing for a sharp drop in domestic enrollment. Like many small private colleges facing the “demographic cliff,” it’s competing for a shrinking pool of traditional-aged students who are questioning the value of a four-year degree — and now it’s dealing with cuts to financial aid. All of this adds up to a major drop in revenue.
Tuition discounts — what students actually pay after scholarships — have ballooned to record highs, according to the National Association of College and University Business Officers. Clark has been discounting its tuition by more than 60% just to fill its seats, a level Fithian admits is “unsustainable.”
“We can’t reduce all of our costs,” he said.
In the coming years, the university plans to shrink its faculty by more than 25% while retooling its academic offerings to focus on fields like climate and environment, media and computing, and health and human behavior — areas Clark leaders say are more relevant to today’s world and job market.
The pressure on colleges to change is real and present. A new report from the Burning Glass Institute finds the unemployment rate for recent college graduates is now higher than for those with associate’s degrees — or even some college and no degree. The report, “No Country for Young Grads,” warns the trend is likely to continue as entry-level jobs in fields vulnerable to AI disappear.
“We have no choice but to look at our lowest enrollment programs,” said Fithian, a Clark alum who graduated in 1987 with a degree in sociology. “People aren’t comfortable talking about colleges and universities as a business, but we have to be able to generate resources to reinvest in the institution — to pay faculty and staff to work and support our students.”
Founded in the late 1800s, Clark has a legacy in advancing rocket science and psychology. In the 1960s, one of its biology professors developed the first birth control pill.
Looking ahead, Fithian said the liberal arts college is taking matters into its own hands.
“We’re responsible for saving ourselves,” he said. “I don't think that we should count on others to come and save us.”
In this polarized moment, colleges like Clark have few allies in Washington.
“Oh, there is no one coming to save them now,” said Kelly McManus, vice president of higher education at Arnold Ventures, a philanthropy focused on evidence-based policy.
McManus said higher education has changed little over the past 50 years, even as tuition prices have soared. College leaders are finally recognizing they must adapt, she said.
“No one likes to be forced into change, but it's coming,” she said. “It's here.”
McManus said college leaders who are really watching international and domestic trends know they must rethink how they operate — and make sure their programs actually lead to good jobs.


