'I can take my accounting class anywhere!' John Korduner/Icon Sportswire /Getty Images


February 13, 2025   6 mins

Some years back, Louisiana State University unveiled a new addition to its campus. Not a library or a lab — but a lazy river. Part of an $85 million expansion of college leisure facilities, the winding pool is 536 feet long, and flanked by palm trees and deckchairs. Things are just as striking from the air: the river’s outline traces out the school’s iconic “LSU” initials. For students sweating in the Baton Rouge sun, where June temperatures average 32°C, the lazy river is a dream. “We’re here to give you everything you need,” is how LSU’s then-president put it. “I don’t want you to leave the campus ever.”

Not that everyone was impressed. Especially among mainstream newspaper columnists, the lazy river provoked mockery. The river, they contended, was a watery waste of money, especially when student tuition and fees have risen substantially, doubling over the past decade. Yet if it’s easy to dismiss the “student experience” in the battle to attract and maintain talented undergraduates, the fact is that LSU is thriving, with a 17% jump in students over a decade. Nor is Louisiana State alone: right across the Southeast, enrolment has increased by an average of 5%, even as rivals in New England and California have slumped.

This shift, it goes without saying, can’t be explained by a single new pool, even one as magical as LSU’s lazy river. Even so, the new waterway does speak to a fundamental shift in how young people conceive of what college involves. The diploma, increasingly, is a product, and colleges sell experiences, credentials — and joy. And if that offers vast opportunities for “football schools” like LSU, with their sororities and their laidback Southern charm, their more po-faced Northern cousins look set to suffer, especially if they continue to dismiss the white middle classes that used to fill their halls.

When I started as a literature teacher at a New England boarding school, nearly 20 years ago, everyone from the board to the headmaster was serious about college admissions but aware that the prior generation’s college admission experience was no longer holding. Parents, for their part, felt obligated to continue the traditions, but wondered how much the landscape had changed. Since they had graduated from elite Northeastern colleges like Brown, Harvard and Yale in the Eighties, they expected the same for their children, especially when they came of age at a time when the Ivy League was an achievable aspiration for smart prep-school graduates with decent grades. The financial crisis blew up any remaining vestiges of the old expectation, but there were plenty of other “good schools” to choose from right across the Northeast.

These days, though, everything is different. Unless you score in the top 2% on the SAT, the white middle classes have next to no chance of studying somewhere like Harvard. In part, that’s a function of the globalisation of US universities. With the rise of The Common App, allowing students to apply to several colleges at once, US higher education went international, even as soaring prosperity from Chengdu to Chennai meant far more students can now afford the fees. The foreign elite, especially from Asia, was for its part all too happy to send their children to US boarding schools and universities. As for the kids themselves, they were intelligent, motivated, and accustomed to taking high-stakes tests.

The applicant pool for the top universities duly got a lot more competitive — and if that was bad enough for the white middle classes, colleges also embraced more “missional” motivations. Righting historic wrongs, and drafting first-generation students into elite institutions, became an absolute priority. But these selection processes are total black boxes, as jealously guarded as any state secret. Yet the impact is clear: students who would have been shoo-ins a decade earlier were left outside looking in. And all of this was before George Floyd and the BLM riots, when colleges became the epicentre of America’s much vaunted “racial reckoning”. All this came to a head in that pivotal year 2020. Presidents issued statements, faculty found their Selma, and thought leaders demanded accountability.

Certainly, these revolutions have had a profound impact on admission stats. In the early Nineties, for instance, Harvard college enrolment was largely regional, and reflected regional demographics. Now, though, diversity goals reveal the college is shifting focus. As goes Harvard, so goes the American university, with targets aimed to reflect the broad demographics of the country. Between the years of 2022 and 2024, the admission rate for white applicants dipped from 41% to 31%. That’s a far cry from 40 years ago, when the kids at my smart New England school would have looked almost exclusively either to the Ivies, or else to a closed group of regional liberal arts schools. There were a few tacitly approved colleges out West and down South, but no prep school kids went to Southern state schools: those were “football schools” and thus grubbily unworthy. Historically speaking, New England attitudes towards Southern schools can only be described as contemptuous.

Now, though, needs must — quite aside from the soaring competition, post-2007 financial pressures made studying at the likes of Harvard far less easy. The soaring costs of tuition make financial aid packages all the more pressing as the price tag outpaces middle-class wages, which pressure enrolment decisions accordingly. Not that the rise of Southern universities is merely down to push factors. On the contrary, Southern universities now look increasingly appealing. As one of my students put it recently: “Why go to school in Massachusetts when I can go to a much warmer state, go to games, and have fun?”

“Why go to school in Massachusetts when I can go to a much warmer state, go to games, and have fun?”

It’s a fair question, especially given the events of recent years. When Covid struck, lockdowns were politicised almost instantly. In a progressive bastion like New England, restrictions were extremely severe, with universities leading the way. Yet for any student with a smartphone, it was easy to see that another world was possible. While they spent the best years of their lives on Zoom, college students further south were not just in real classes — but getting drunk at football games and heading to spring break.

Nor does social media’s influence end there. Spend long on TikTok or Instagram and you’ll soon spot them: the blonde girls dancing at Rush, the annual ritual of choosing a fraternity or sorority, or else “College GameDay” when multiple ESPN trailers roll in for pre-game festivities. Now lasting several days, they’re complete with concerts, celebrities and a chance to howl in support of your team on national television. Then there’s Barstool Sports, a popular pop culture site. Featuring viral videos galore, it showcases clips of bros playing poker with Alabaman sorority chicks. You can almost hear the Connecticut 18-year-old thinking: “I can take my accounting class anywhere!”

Another piece of the puzzle here is comparing how universities on either side of the Mason-Dixon Line have dealt with DEI. Right across the North, students were forced to listen to fatuous lectures on white supremacy and anti-racism. They were told to read Robin DiAngelo and Ta-Nehisi Coates. They were told to “do better” and to “do the work” and to “be a good ally”. These students were told, in short, that they were the problem, no matter what they had individually done. The privilege they enjoyed was systemic, wicked, total. Talking with several of my former students, they describe “cultural bingo” games designed to raise “awareness”. As one of my more thick-skinned former students put it: “Starting off the year being among the worst of the worst was pretty hilarious.”

Generally speaking, the South avoided such manias, even pushing back in law. In 2022, for instance, Governor Ron DeSantis signed a bill banning DEI across all public Florida colleges. It’s a cultural fork in the road that endures to this day. While many prestigious Northern schools featured tarp-blue “tent cities” in support of Palestinians last year, their Southern counterparts were too busy with the college football season. That’s exactly the kind of “experience” many kids dream of, with their circus-like atmosphere and kegs. Having the former, at any rate, codes weird and alienating — while the latter codes normal.

No less important, Southern universities have tweaked their offerings too. Not for them a catalogue of classic courses, flanked by bucolic photos of rolling country in the fall. These days, colleges have dolled themselves up, kickstarting an arms race in which fancy new buildings, STEM centres, field houses, and student halls became ways of securing applicants. Education, in short, has morphed into a consumer product, something Southern colleges seem happy to embrace. Quite aside from LSU’s lazy river, there’s also major upgrades for residence halls that look and feel much more like luxury condos than the cramped dorms of older colleges. Then there are the fancy dining halls, with their niche grills, and the climbing walls and high-tech gyms.

Their Northern rivals, by contrast, seem unwilling to get in on the fun. In a way, that’s fair enough: college as country club is easy to mock. Yet mission creep runs the other way too, with dubious “studies” departments stalking Northern campus. Nor, of course, was DEI just for students. Consider the Center for Antiracist Research, at Boston University, its celebrity academic Ibram X. Kendi enjoying a $10 million gift from Twitter founder Jack Dorsey. Now, though, the centre is closing, perhaps indicative of the new cultural atmosphere under Donald Trump.

Taken together, it’s easy to see why so many kids are eager to head south, with Southern colleges enjoying a 42% rise in applications over the past few years. Numbers aside, these normie, white middle-class students know the dirty secret: the “good schools” do not want them. And where the kids are going, their parents are too. And why not? Their East Coast salaries and 401-Ks go a lot farther down south, with inexpensive housing, a multitude of golf courses and plenty of opportunities for laid-back living. Throw in a few lazy rivers for Boomers, and the Yankee flow could yet become a torrent.