For the last few years, many colleges and universities across the country have experienced firsthand attacks on higher education through state legislation targeting diversity, equity and inclusion initiatives. Since 2023, about 120 anti-DEI bills have been introduced across 29 states, and 15 of them have become law.

These proposed bills and enacted legislation have largely been met with silence from university leaders. But over the past month, as attacks on diversity, equity and inclusion policies rose to the federal level via multiple executive orders and a Dear Colleague letter from the Department of Education, a broad coalition—professional associations in higher education, labor organizations, civil rights groups and elected officials—has filed numerous federal lawsuits challenging their constitutionality, including at least four suits involving educational organizations as plaintiffs. By taking legal action and securing a preliminary injunction against two of the executive orders, these coalitions are breaking the silence of recent years to send a clear message about the legality and harmful consequences of these policy changes for higher education and society.

As scholars who examine how the law shapes educational policy and organizations, we have closely studied the consequences of anti-DEI bills on faculty members who engage in the very topics implicated by these laws. We’ve learned that these bills restrict research and teaching protected by academic freedom before they’re even enacted. Unintentionally or not, silence from institutional leaders contributes to the suppression.

To counter this climate of suppression and protect the robust exchange of ideas and open inquiry, we must embrace coalitions like the ones behind the federal lawsuits and urge higher education leaders to unite and speak out to uphold institutional missions and safeguard our democracy.

Why Silence Does Not Work—and Makes Matters Worse

In our recently published study, we interviewed 32 faculty members whose research or teaching focused on race at two public institutions in different Republican-controlled states with proposed anti-DEI, anti–critical race theory and anti-tenure bills. Even before these bills took effect—and despite exemptions for research and teaching—we found that many faculty members pre-emptively altered their work in response to the external interference.

Some removed diversity-related course readings or avoided certain terms like “intersectionality” in their teaching. Others, like Kourtney, a Black tenured faculty member, hesitated to share their research publicly, fearing harassment if it got into the wrong hands. Kourtney described how previously she would disseminate her research widely to make an impact. But now, out of fear, she was more reserved and cautious when sharing her work as to not get “on the radar [of] anyone that could potentially try to stop” her research.

We also learned that the actions—or lack thereof—of university leaders shaped faculty members’ responses. University leaders’ silence amplified the pressures proposed legislation created. Danielle, a Black tenured faculty member, explained how silence from institutional leaders made “everything harder” and “sent a really loud and clear message” of “not supporting me.” The “glaring silence,” as participants called it, from senior leaders and college deans heightened uncertainty and anxiety, leaving many faculty members feeling isolated and solely responsible for protecting their rights under academic freedom.

Yet not all university leaders were silent. Some faculty members in our study had supportive college deans and department chairs who conveyed affirmative internal messages. These participants reported that such messages helped them feel supported, empowered and confident in continuing their teaching and research without compromise. Wilson and Michelle both expressed that messages from their deans, messages that emphasized valuing faculty expertise and a commitment to scholarship addressing inequities, made them “feel at the college level like you’re protected” and reinforced their belief in “having academic freedom to be able to teach.”

It is understandable that leaders hesitate to speak out, given the risk of losing state funding or their jobs. In fact, many faculty members we spoke to, like Megan, understood the challenging circumstances and empathized with their college deans. Megan recalled her college dean saying, “We don’t agree with [the bill], but let’s wait it out. Trying to … draw attention will be worse. Let’s keep our head down.” However, their silence also created a critical void. Cruz, a Latino tenured faculty member, explained how “not saying anything is just as bad, because then the only conclusion that the faculty take … is ‘we’re on our own out here.’”

As a result, many faculty members of color undertook additional administrative work and legislative advocacy efforts as private citizens to be able to carry on with their research and teaching, making it increasingly difficult for them to advance their careers. Cruz shared how all this additional work and advocacy was “time that they’re not doing scholarship, that they’re not writing grants, that they’re not updating their classes.” For some, the frustration and exhaustion became so overwhelming that they chose to leave their institutions, or higher education entirely.

Why Coalitions Are Needed to Break the Silence

Our findings also revealed that support from coalitions of civil rights groups, advocacy organizations and professional associations like the American Association of University Professors helped some faculty members to resist the pressure to change their teaching or research. These groups organized teach-ins virtually or on campus, provided legislative analysis via one-pagers and facilitated legislative organizing efforts.

Eliot, a white tenured faculty member, described how these coalitions helped foster “some unity,” making “a real difference psychologically” by ensuring members no longer felt isolated but instead felt that “we’re in this together.” By building collective capacity, these coalitions empowered faculty members to defend academic freedom and push back against a climate of suppression—particularly as most participants in our study received little to no guidance or support from university leaders.

Now, faculty members across the country—many of whom are only beginning to face these challenges—find themselves overwhelmed with uncertainty and fear, pressured to pre-emptively censor their work. However, we’re starting to see the emergence of the coalitions needed to disrupt this climate of suppression.

The recent lawsuits mark an important step in the defense of robust expression of ideas and open inquiry, but they are just the beginning. Effectively challenging this suppression requires a united front of policy and advocacy organizations, civil rights groups, unions, professional associations, and institutional leaders. Leaders are better positioned to advocate for higher education and respond to emerging threats when working within a coalition, such as Education for All, which has been providing training sessions and strategic guidance to help institutions safeguard their student success programs.

These coalitions provide crucial support on the ground to help faculty members, administrators and students continue their work while the legal battles unfold. And they can help break institutional silence by offering timely, research-driven guidance on state legislation, executive orders and other emerging state and federal threats—many of which pressure education professionals to unnecessarily restrict or abandon core principles and programs in higher education.