We're very lucky. Princeton students have the opportunity to learn from some of the world's greatest minds and to be part of a remarkable student body. But let's be honest. Our good fortune extends beyond the experience we have here. When we leave, we'll have tremendous opportunities. We know we're getting a great education, but there's no denying the credential awaiting us gives us enviable access to power.
For most of its history, Princeton has performed a conservative role, equipping an already privileged group with credentials to cement its elite position. The stereotypical Princeton student was rich and white, and the stereotype was right.
America has changed and Princeton has, to a certain extent, changed with it. Saying education should be the special reserve of a privileged class these days, would at the very least, draw incredulous laughter.
Many barriers have fallen. And Princeton has taken the lead with its latest step, dropping loans from its financial aid formula and offering grants to cover the cost of attendance.
The importance of this move extends far beyond Princeton getting the best students it can. Critics who asserted this at the time could have only been operating out of institutional jealousy.
For people who believe in the power of education to level the playing field — and I'm one of them — this policy was a great moment. It meant that students from low-income families who were shut out of the advantages a Princeton degree offers could have access to them.
This is great in theory, but in practice it hasn't played out nearly as well.
Yes, 51 percent of Princeton undergraduates receive financial aid, but let's remember we're talking about receiving financial aid to pay a bill that the University pegs at $41,380. That's about $2,000 below the median household income in 2003, according to the Census Bureau.
If you guessed that the median Princeton student receiving aid is a lot better off than the average American, you're right. The median family income for a student receiving aid this school year is $94,500, a stat similar to other Ivies. Family and household incomes aren't exactly the same measure, but surely the difference doesn't make up for $50,000.
The implications are clear. Princeton still serves to reinforce privilege, giving powerful credentials to a student body with access to significantly more resources than the average American.
We all know that wealth gives access to education leading up to the college years, and these students are, as a group, better equipped to jump into a demanding curriculum like ours.
Would it be fair to take a risk on students that might not be as prepared when there are so many well qualified students? I don't pretend to know all the details, but at the very least, it's a question worth asking.
Are we committed to making Princeton a place that doesn't reinforce privilege? Recent moves by the administration suggest yes, but we've got a long way to go.
Jonathan Williams is a religion major from Charlotte, N.C. You can reach him at jlwillia@princeton.edu.
Read More
Keep academic authority in human hands
Lily Halbert-AlexanderThe Trump administration’s attacks on research and higher education as well as a blind reliance on AI chatbots are reflective of a societal backslide: a commodification of knowledge that prioritizes “efficiency” over the messy process of getting to an answer, where nuances are flattened and the truth is fungible.
The Trump administration’s attacks on research and higher education as well as a blind reliance on AI chatbots are reflective of a societal backslide: a commodification of knowledge that prioritizes “efficiency” over the messy process of getting to an answer, where nuances are flattened and the truth is fungible.
What do we owe society for a Princeton education?
Jia Cheng ShenThe social and moral responsibility that comes with receiving a degree subsidized by both private generosity and public trust is significant.
The social and moral responsibility that comes with receiving a degree subsidized by both private generosity and public trust is significant.
Notes from a so-called enemy’s classroom
Jennifer JenningsIt wasn’t revolutionary. It was homework. But it was homework that asked: how do we build schools that work for all kids? Inclusion, after all, is the “I” in DEI. That’s what we’re thinking about together. And caring about each other’s experiences and opportunities, it turns out, isn’t something you can outlaw.
It wasn’t revolutionary. It was homework. But it was homework that asked: how do we build schools that work for all kids? Inclusion, after all, is the “I” in DEI. That’s what we’re thinking about together. And caring about each other’s experiences and opportunities, it turns out, isn’t something you can outlaw.