The Headlines
The Ghosts of Lost Knowledge
More colleges shuttered their doors in the US in 2024 than ever before, and universities in other parts of the world face a similar concern. Why are universities are closing, and what happens when they do?
By Michelle Zhu
“The reality is, colleges and universities across America have been impacted by shifts in demographics, declining enrolment, and rising costs."
"Entrepreneurial leadership is not a one-size-fits-all approach. It is deeply contextual and as such requires situational leadership."
Talking points
- Universities are facing unprecedented closures due to a shrinking student pipeline and severe financial challenges. This trend is leaving a lasting void in higher education, impacting students, staff, and communities.
- Declining birthrates are shrinking student numbers, with US undergraduate enrolments down 15% since 2010. Coupled with rising costs and funding cuts, this leads to widespread financial distress and accreditation loss, exemplified by numerous closures globally.
- Beyond closures, the sector faces an irreversible loss of expertise and unique programmes, like Yale-NUS’s initiatives. However, alumni are now keeping these legacies alive.
The higher education industry is staring down a demographic cliff: a shrinking pool of high-school graduates that is expected to plummet after 2025. This crisis stems from a century of declining birthrates which has hollowed out the pipeline of traditional college-age students.
Historical data points to accelerating declines on the horizon. According to the National Center for Education Statistics in the US, undergraduate enrolments already slid 15 percent from 2010 to 2021.
Now, a December 2024 Federal Reserve Bank of Philadelphia working paper warns the next five years could see another 15 percent decline — potentially triggering up to 80 additional university closures, 142 percent above the annual average in the US.
But dwindling enrolment figures are not the only threat. Fiscal turmoil is perhaps the most glaring factor, fuelled by ballooning inflation, rising operating costs and significant post-COVID government funding cuts.
Siena Heights University, a private Catholic institution, recently announced that the 2026 academic year would be its last after operating for 105 years in Michigan, citing financial and operational challenges.
“The reality is, colleges and universities across America have been impacted by shifts in demographics, declining enrolment, and rising costs… We’re not the first college and university to close, nor will we be the last,” says Douglas Palmer, President of Siena Heights University, in a June 30 video statement.
The fallout from such financial distress lingers long after institutions shut down. Consider the now-defunct Notre Dame College, which faces a slew of lawsuits while its 50-acre South Euclid campus remains unsold. Another instance is Limestone University, which abruptly closed in May this year after a failed fundraising effort, leaving hundreds of students and staff fighting for at least six figures worth of unpaid tuition and back wages, respectively.
A less discussed but equally critical cause of closure is the loss of accreditation, which is often triggered by financial instability, governance lapses, or failure to meet academic standards. Alliance University made headlines in late 2023 when the Middle States Commission on Higher Education revoked its accreditation, sealing the fate of the Christian liberal arts school which had already been operating in the red for years.
Even elite institutions aren’t immune. Though still standing, Ivy League names like Columbia University and Harvard University face accreditation threats from the Trump administration over allegations of federal anti-discrimination violations.
From Shredded Books to Defunct Policies
When a university shuts its doors, the void it leaves behind can linger for decades, if it’s ever filled at all. The damage is not just educational. Jobs are lost; displaced students struggle with insurmountable financial and emotional distress; vacant campuses become monuments to abandoned potential; and centuries of research go up in flames.
A particularly visceral example for Singaporeans would be the demise of Yale-National University of Singapore College (Yale-NUS), touted as the city state’s first and only liberal arts college.
As the institution shuttered this year, some 500 library books were shredded — until public outcry saved the rest. The incident serves as a metaphor for a larger tragedy beyond just empty lecture theatres and hallways: the irreversible loss of expertise, niche programmes, traditions and bonds.
In August 2021, the National University of Singapore (NUS) announced that its partnership with Yale University would cease in 2025, just 12 years after its founding. While no official reason was announced at the time, Singapore’s education minister later remarked that the college did not reach its fundraising target “through no fault of its own”.
Yale-NUS closed its doors for good after its final cohort graduated in June 2025. In its place today stands NUS College: an honours college lacking the full liberal arts programme offered by its predecessor.
“I was definitely sad to hear of the closure, as I felt Yale-NUS had become very stable and was thriving,” recalls former faculty member Andrew McGeehan, who served at Yale-NUS for over five years before leaving in December 2020 to start his own business.
As Associate Director for Residential Education and Dispute Resolution, McGeehan was responsible for leading a team of sexual wellness educators and supported LGBTQ+ students on campus. These initiatives included gender-neutral housing and bathrooms, both rare in Singapore’s conservative landscape.
“It was disappointing to know that a lot of our work wouldn't be carried forward into the new college. I heard that our progressive sexual misconduct policies didn't transition over, nor did our gender-neutral bathroom signs (as of my last visit to campus). I have also heard that gender-neutral housing is not continuing at NUS College,” he says.
“It's unfortunate that a lot of what made Yale-NUS unique and exciting have been re-evaluated and potentially discarded.”
While a Singapore parliamentary response assured that all Yale-NUS faculty members hired before August 2021 were offered positions at NUS, McGeehan notes that many chose to leave after the school’s closure.
“Some folks didn't want to transition to much-larger departments, some didn't have an exact match for their subject at NUS, others just preferred the small-scale experience of Yale-NUS,” he elaborates.
“Of course, for foreigners there is always worry about whether work passes would continue to be issued. For staff, the jobs [offered at NUS] were definitely not analogous, so if folks got placed into a department that wasn't of interest to them, they would look for other employment elsewhere.”
A Limited-Edition Legacy
Despite some students’ concerns that their degrees might have become less valuable, Chloe Lim, who graduated in 2021 shortly before the school’s closure was announced, argues the opposite. The rarity of a Yale-NUS education, she says, makes its graduates bearers of a “limited brand”.
To Lim, the school itself represented an experiment of rooting a US-style liberal arts college in Singapore’s pragmatic landscape.
Few experiences encapsulated the school’s spirit better than its orientation trips, in her view. While her 2018 cohort bonded in Kuching, Malaysia, she heard that the inaugural class had been flown to Connecticut to visit Yale’s campus. Later that year, Lim found herself in Madrid on a week-long field trip (70 percent subsidised by the school) documenting Tango’s evolution for a course.
She says these global experiences made up just one facet of what made the Yale-NUS student experience unmatched. “While it’s a shame no more students will be coming out of it, it also means that our education is something no one else will have besides the nine cohorts which graduated with a Yale-NUS degree,” she notes.
For Adriel Yong, the school was never just an academic institution, but an intellectual incubator and a community that encouraged risk-taking, rigorous thought, and compassion.
“Yale-NUS shaped how I relate to the world... It instilled in me the confidence to navigate ambiguity and to keep asking questions, even when answers aren’t immediately obvious,” he says.
The 2023 graduate was appointed president of the Yale-NUS Alumni Club executive committee just months ago; at a time which he considers an “incredibly meaningful — if bittersweet — moment” to be leading the discontinued institution’s alumni body.
“We’re in a unique position: stewarding an alumni network without a continuing college that has a physical campus and ongoing batches of students,” he tells QS Insights Magazine.
“Unlike most alumni communities that can rely on their alma mater for continuity, support and renewal, we’ve had to take on a more active role in building the community we want to see.”
For instance, a mentorship initiative was launched this year to connect the most recent cohort of Yale-NUS graduates with more senior alumni, ranging as far back as the inaugural Class of 2017. This helps to ensure that the school’s institutional culture continues to be passed down even without a continuing student body, says Yong.
Another example would be an entrepreneurship showcase organised by the club to highlight alumni ventures spanning from geospatial analytics to pet accessories. It is this bold, interdisciplinary thinking that Yong — an entrepreneur himself, having co-founded an AI startup in the music industry — considers a Yale-NUS definitive.
He also shares that alumni members are often invited to speak at schools and universities, where they share how a liberal arts education has helped to shape their world view and professional trajectories.
“In these ways, we’re organically becoming advocates not just for Yale-NUS, but for a broader philosophy of education that emphasises curiosity, critical thinking, and civic-mindedness.”