Many students enter college expecting to learn, grow, and make a difference. What they don’t always expect is to learn that their own universities are tied—often deeply—to systems of harm. Behind the classroom walls and mission statements, schools may be connected to companies, policies, and practices that go against the very values they claim to teach.
Understanding university complicity matters because these institutions play a major role in shaping the future. They hold money, influence, and global partnerships. When that power supports injustice—whether through silence, investment, or collaboration—students have every reason to ask questions and demand change.
What This Article Covers
This article takes a closer look at how universities become complicit in harmful systems. It explains how investments, partnerships, and public messaging affect real lives beyond the campus gates. It also offers ways students are pushing back and asking their schools to stand for justice in practice—not just on paper.
If you care about equity, human rights, and institutional accountability, this article provides context and clarity on why complicity isn’t just a distant issue—it’s right at home on campus.
The Power Universities Hold
Universities are more than centers of learning. They are employers, investors, landlords, and global influencers. That means their decisions carry weight far beyond academics.
Many schools manage huge endowments. These are funds invested in businesses, stocks, and real estate to help sustain the university financially. But where that money goes says a lot about what a school supports. If a university invests in arms manufacturers, fossil fuel companies, or corporations involved in apartheid systems, that isn’t neutral. It’s a choice.
Beyond finances, universities also form research partnerships and contracts. These might include surveillance technology firms, companies operating in occupied territories, or defense contractors. In many cases, students and faculty don’t even know these connections exist until someone starts digging.
Even campus events, speakers, and sponsored programs can reflect deeper ties. When universities host representatives from regimes or corporations involved in oppression, it signals comfort with complicity—even if the invitation is framed as dialogue.
How Complicity Shows Up
The most obvious form of complicity is through investments. Schools that pride themselves on diversity and inclusion often have millions tied up in companies that harm marginalized communities. This isn’t always intentional, but it is avoidable. When schools refuse to review or divest from these holdings, they make a clear statement: profit comes first.
Real estate decisions can also tell a story. Some universities gentrify neighborhoods by buying up land and displacing long-term residents. Others expand into areas with little regard for environmental impact or community input. These actions aren’t separate from the classroom—they’re part of the institution’s identity.
Labor practices matter too. From underpaid staff to unfair treatment of contract workers, how a university treats its employees reflects its values. Students may not always see these practices, but they affect the people who clean dorms, cook meals, and keep the campus running.
Policing is another area where complicity shows up. University police often cooperate with local law enforcement or federal agencies. In many cases, this leads to increased surveillance or violence against students of color and activists. That’s not about safety—it’s about control.
The Language of Neutrality
One of the most common responses from universities facing pressure to change is a claim of neutrality. Administrators may say they do not take political positions. But neutrality in the face of harm is not harmless. It protects the status quo.
When universities stay silent during genocide, apartheid, or systemic injustice, they send a message to students: some lives are worth more than others. That silence also encourages complicity to continue unchecked.
The idea of neutrality often serves as a shield. It allows institutions to avoid accountability while maintaining an image of fairness. But justice requires action, not just statements. Real neutrality would mean refusing to profit from oppression—not refusing to acknowledge it.
What Students Are Doing About It
Students have always been a driving force behind campus change. Whether fighting for divestment from apartheid South Africa, fossil fuels, or current-day human rights abuses, student campaigns have a long history of shaking institutions awake.
These efforts often start small. A research project. A petition. A teach-in. Over time, they grow into powerful movements with clear demands. Transparency. Divestment. Accountability.
Many student groups have uncovered hidden investment portfolios, exposed ties to surveillance firms, and pushed for faculty solidarity. These movements work through persistence and community. They also help build student power for future campaigns.
What makes these actions so meaningful is that they come from those most directly impacted by university choices. When students raise their voices, they are not outsiders—they are the heart of the campus calling for change.
The Role of Faculty and Staff
Faculty and staff can also play a major role in exposing complicity and supporting student demands. Through open letters, course content, and union actions, they can apply pressure in ways that students alone may not be able to.
Some faculty use their research to call out institutional hypocrisy. Others withdraw from sponsored programs or refuse to work with companies tied to oppression. Staff members may join organizing efforts or help protect students facing disciplinary action.
Solidarity between students, faculty, and staff builds power. It also reminds administrators that justice isn’t a fringe issue—it’s a shared responsibility across campus.
What Universities Can Do Differently
Transparency is a good starting point. Universities should make their financial relationships, partnerships, and policies public. Students should know where their tuition and fees go, and what their institution supports.
Community input also matters. Schools must create space for real dialogue—not just token conversations—about their role in global systems. That includes listening to impacted communities, both on and off campus.
Taking action doesn’t mean perfection. It means being willing to step away from harmful partnerships, re-evaluate investments, and speak out against injustice. It means matching values with action.
Change often feels slow, but every step counts. When a school commits to ethical investment or ends a harmful contract, it sends a message: we can learn, and we can do better.
Universities are not separate from the world—they shape it. When they support systems of harm, even quietly, they carry real responsibility. Students, faculty, and communities have every right to demand more. A better future begins with asking hard questions—and refusing to accept silence as an answer.