The relationship between the federal government and American universities is tense and often misunderstood. The gap between the purposes and priorities of government, on one side, and the missions and functions of universities, on the other, is alarming.

Historically, the United States has relied on its colleges and universities for several things critical to national defense. First, higher education produces a more educated work force for a globally competitive marketplace. Second, advanced learning fills federal, state, and local government positions that citizens rely on for necessary services. Third, the military and civilian defense establishments require leaders who understand the science and engineering behind modern weapons. Future defense and national security leaders must also understand the American military experience and the relationship between the armed forces and society.

The current and prospective international system is one that poses a wide variety of threats to world peace and international order. U.S. armed forces will be tasked for deterrence and war fighting missions across the entire spectrum of conflict,  from nuclear weapons spread and the possibility of war in space, to the nuances of urban terrorism and counterinsurgency. Officers who rise to senior command will need the perspective of innovators and adaptors, sometimes improvising in combat when exigent conditions override old rules of engagement.

As technology advances and the geostrategic environment grows more complicated, the United States will need a stronger educational establishment to compete with China and other rising powers. Nowhere in Europe or among major Asian military powers is national education under such crossfire as it is in the United States today. How did we get here, and what is to be done?

A primary cause of the war against American education is the perception among politicians, activists, and journalists that higher education has been colonized by radicals who hate America, misrepresent its history, and aim to produce dissidents who attack traditional culture and values, including patriotism and military service. This narrative has spread through misleading political campaigns, indifferent media coverage, and, unfortunately, some missteps by educators themselves.

At the center of this narrative is conflict between the Trump administration and Ivy League universities where demonstrations included violence and charges of antisemitism. Coverage of episodes at Harvard, the University of Pennsylvania, and Columbia has emphasized the behavior of a small percentage of students, sometimes supported by nonstudents and outside money, and overlooked the far larger share of students and faculty who avoid political violence and intimidation.

Admittedly, some leaders in higher education were slow to confront agitators who crossed the line between permissible speech and harassment. On July 24, 2025, Columbia University announced a settlement with the Trump administration: $220 million in fines in exchange for an end to attacks on Columbia’s federally funded research program. Some commentators and observers saw a dangerous precedent; others preferred Harvard’s decision to litigate. Acting Columbia President Claire Shipman argued the agreement was needed to prevent further disruption, and possible destruction, of the broader research enterprise. Whatever the outcome, we are far from the day President John F. Kennedy, at Yale’s 1962 commencement, joked that he enjoyed the best of both worlds: a Harvard education and a Yale degree.

Attacks on higher education also suggest that students, faculty, and administrators are elitists out of touch with Middle America. In fact, most students that attend public institutions come from middle class families, and do not learn their basic values from professors. Values are learned years before college through family and other primary groups. Professors rarely convert diehard conservatives into liberals, or vice versa. Radicals who break the law and violate campus codes are seldom motivated by instructors and more often they are encouraged and funded by activists who move from campus to campus. For example, antisemitism at some universities has been fueled by provocateurs exploiting student concern for non-terrorist Palestinians in Gaza while mischaracterizing Israel’s response to the October 7, 2023, attacks.

Administrators can also be faulted for negligence in defending First Amendment rights and for suppressing speech on spurious grounds. Unlike high school students, most college students are legal adults. They have the right to use confrontational rhetoric and provocative discourse protected by the First Amendment, however infuriating it may be. Too many universities have come to see themselves as providers of reassurance and guarantors of good feeling, backing that impulse with coercive training and sanctions against so-called offensive remarks inside and outside the classroom. The result is an atmosphere in which conversation is reduced to clichés and the celebration of the obvious instead of the clash of ideas from which great minds are molded.

It is an irony that more cut-and-thrust classroom testing of ideas can be found in some U.S. military war colleges and service academies than in many civilian institutions. Even there, however, trends toward government micro-management of curricula and textbook selection are troubling. Ukraine’s resistance to Russia since the February 2022 invasion is lesson to be learned in this debate: Ukraine turned a failed coup de main into a war of attrition through determination, drones, better intelligence, and a faster OODA loop (observe, orient, decide, act) than Russia.

Going forward, educators, politicians, warriors and voters will have to decide: do we want rigorous and results-oriented learning experiences for our future generations of leaders, or, instead, do we prefer ritualized feelgood rites of passage that will produce generations of intellectual bobbleheads majoring in conspicuous consumption?

Stephen J. Cimbala is Distinguished Professor of Political Science at Penn State Brandywine and the author of numerous works on nuclear deterrence, arms control, and military strategy. He is a senior fellow at NIDS and a recent contributor to the Routledge Handbook of Soviet and Russian Military Studies edited by Dr. Alexander Hill (Routledge: 2025). The views of the author are his own.

The Halls of Ivy and National Defense was originally published on Global Security Review.

The credibility of the nation’s nuclear deterrent, the ultimate guarantor of sovereignty, is inextricably linked to domestic well-being. Economic prosperity, social cohesion, and the trust citizens have in their institutions are all part of that amorphous concept. Adversaries like Russia and China understand that it is in their interest to undermine American societal health; it is time Americans realize the challenge facing the nation.

For decades, the logic of nuclear deterrence rested on a triad of capabilities, credibility, and communication. The United States fielded the world’s most advanced nuclear arsenal and communicated credibility effectively. But credibility—the unwavering belief in America’s will to act—is the lynchpin.

This is where the home front becomes the front line. A nation that is prosperous, unified, and optimistic possesses the strategic endurance to maintain its commitments. Societal well-being is not a “soft” issue separate from “hard” power; it is a foundational strategic asset that fuels long-term political resolve.

The mechanisms connecting a healthy society to a credible deterrent are not merely theoretical. They are etched into recent history. Consider the 1980s under President Reagan. An economic resurgence and a renewed sense of national confidence provided the political capital and financial resources for a sweeping modernization of nuclear forces that saw the Peacekeeper ICBM and the B-2 stealth bomber enter service.

This was not just a military build-up; it was a clear signal to the Soviet Union, born from a nation that had the resources and the will to compete over the long haul. High public trust, buoyed by economic stability, sustained the political commitment for these massive, multi-decade investments.

Contrast this with the period following the 2008 financial crisis. The ensuing economic pain, political polarization, and public discontent led directly to the Budget Control Act and sequestration, which imposed punishing cuts on the defense budget. Allies and adversaries alike watched as Americans debated whether they could afford to modernize an aging nuclear triad. The signal was one of constraint and introspection, raising quiet questions in foreign capitals about the long-term reliability of America’s security guarantees. A nation struggling with internal economic and social crises inevitably projects an image of distraction and dwindling resolve.

Adversaries did not miss this lesson. They astutely integrated America’s domestic vulnerabilities into their national security strategies. China and Russia are engaged in a relentless campaign of information warfare designed to exacerbate our societal fissures. State-controlled media outlets like CGTN (Chinese) and RT (Russian), amplified by armies of bots and trolls on social media, relentlessly spotlight American inequality, racial tensions, and political gridlock.

Their goal is twofold: erode the confidence of Americans in their own democratic system and persuade the world that the United States is a chaotic, declining power whose deterrence is brittle and promises are hollow. By turning societal metrics into weapons against Americans, adversaries aim to achieve strategic gains without firing a shot.

Of course, the relationship between societal health and defense is not without its complexities. A valid counterargument holds that a society enjoying high well-being might become complacent, preferring to spend its “peace dividend” on social programs rather than defense. The post–Cold War era saw this exact debate, as calls to shift funding from “guns to butter” grew louder.

This presents a genuine leadership challenge that requires articulating why investments in national security are essential to protecting the very prosperity and stability Americans enjoy. The choice is not always between a new healthcare program and a new submarine. A strong, healthy, and educated populace, free from economic precarity, is the very foundation that allows a nation to project power and afford the tools of its own defense. A robust social safety net and a powerful military are not mutually exclusive—they are mutually reinforcing pillars of a resilient state.

This calculus extends to the nation’s most critical strategic advantage: America’s network of alliances. The strength of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), for instance, is not purely a measure of its combined military hardware. It is rooted in a collective commitment to democratic values and the shared societal well-being of its members.

A stable, prosperous, and unified America reassures allies and strengthens collective deterrence. Conversely, an America seen as internally fractured and unreliable invites doubt, weakening the very alliances that magnify American power. When allied societies are confident in American leadership, collective credibility soars.

Therefore, Americans must rethink national security for the twenty-first century by placing American well-being at the very heart of our strategic imperatives. Bridging the economic divide not only broadens our tax base but also strengthens social cohesion, enabling sustainable defense budgets without overburdening taxpayers. Revitalizing education fuels scientific breakthroughs and cultivates the skilled workforce needed to modernize our nuclear command, control, and delivery systems. Upgrading infrastructure, from critical ports and highways to resilient cybersecurity networks, enhances our logistical agility, accelerates force deployment, and bolsters the credibility of our deterrent. By fostering political unity, we project resolve to allies and adversaries alike, inoculating our society against foreign information warfare and ensuring decisive, coordinated responses in times of crisis.

The defining contest of this century will not be waged on traditional battlefields but in a struggle of systems: our free, prosperous, and cohesive society versus an authoritarian model of centralized control. To secure our peace, we must fortify America’s Silent Shield at home. The credibility of our nuclear deterrent, and, by extension, our global leadership, will always mirror the resilience and unity of the nation it protects.

Brandon Toliver, PhD, serves on the A4 staff of Headquarters Air Force. The views expressed are those of the author and do not reflect the official guidance or position of the United States government, the Department of Defense, the United States Air Force, or the United States Space Force.

America’s Silent Shield: How Domestic Strength Sustains Nuclear Power was originally published on Global Security Review.