United States Department of Education

Based on Wikipedia: United States Department of Education

A Department Born to Be Controversial

The United States Department of Education has been fighting for its survival since before it even existed. Created in 1980, abolished on paper countless times, and now facing its most serious existential threat yet, this cabinet-level agency has the peculiar distinction of being perhaps the most contested department in the entire federal government. To understand why a department focused on something as seemingly uncontroversial as education inspires such fierce opposition, you need to understand what it actually does—and what it represents in the long-running American debate about who should control what children learn.

Here's the essential tension: the Constitution never mentions education. Not once.

This omission isn't accidental. When the Founders drafted the Constitution, they left education to the states and local communities, reflecting their deep suspicion of centralized power. For nearly two centuries, that's largely how it remained. The federal government's role in education was minimal—a small office here, an advisory committee there. Then came the upheavals of the twentieth century: the Great Depression, World War II, the Cold War, the Civil Rights Movement. Each crisis seemed to demand a federal response, and education was no exception.

The First Attempt: 1867

The Department of Education's origin story actually begins more than a century before its modern incarnation. In 1867, President Andrew Johnson—the same president who would later become the first to be impeached—signed legislation creating the original Department of Education. The idea came from Henry Barnard and leaders of the National Teachers Association, which would later become the National Education Association, or NEA.

The concept was modest: collect information about schools across the nation and offer advice, much like the Department of Agriculture helped farmers. No mandates. No funding strings. Just data and suggestions.

It lasted exactly one year.

Within twelve months, concerns about federal overreach led Congress to demote the department to a mere bureau within the Department of the Interior. Barnard, who had served as the first Commissioner of Education, resigned in protest. The organization would spend the next century bouncing between agencies and titles, always small, always peripheral, never quite important enough to matter—or threatening enough to eliminate.

The Long Wandering

For decades, the Office of Education (as it was usually called) lived a quiet bureaucratic existence. In 1939, it moved to the Federal Security Agency. After World War II, President Dwight Eisenhower reorganized the federal government, and the education functions landed in the newly created Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, known by its acronym HEW. There the office sat, a relatively minor component of a department primarily focused on health and social services.

In 1920, there had been an attempt to create a standalone Department of Education through something called the Smith-Towner Bill. It failed. The American political system wasn't ready for a cabinet-level commitment to federal education involvement. That would take another six decades—and a very particular political moment.

Carter's Gambit

By the late 1970s, the landscape had shifted dramatically. The federal government had become deeply involved in education through various programs—financial aid for college students, support for disadvantaged children, civil rights enforcement in schools. These programs were scattered across multiple agencies, creating what reformers saw as inefficiency and what critics saw as creeping federal control.

President Jimmy Carter made creating a cabinet-level Department of Education a priority. His plan was ambitious: take education functions from Health, Education, and Welfare (creating the Department of Health and Human Services as a remnant), and also pull in education-related programs from the Departments of Defense, Justice, Housing and Urban Development, and Agriculture. The goal was consolidation and, supporters argued, efficiency.

The National Education Association, representing the nation's public school teachers, enthusiastically supported the bill. Interestingly, the American Federation of Teachers—the other major teachers' union—opposed it. This split reflected a genuine disagreement about whether federal consolidation would help or hurt public education.

Republicans largely opposed the idea. They argued it was unconstitutional (education isn't mentioned in the Constitution, remember) and represented federal intrusion into what should be local affairs. Supporters countered that the Commerce Clause and the Taxing and Spending Clause gave Congress ample authority to fund and oversee educational programs.

Carter signed the Department of Education Organization Act on October 17, 1979. The department began operating on May 4, 1980.

At birth, it had about 17,000 employees and a budget of $14 billion. That represented a significant upgrade from the Office of Education, which had only 3,000 employees and a $12 billion budget. The new department was still the smallest cabinet agency by headcount—a distinction it maintains to this day.

The Reagan Assault

The Department of Education was barely operational when it faced its first assassination attempt. During the 1980 presidential campaign, Ronald Reagan called for its complete elimination, along with severe cuts to bilingual education and a massive reduction in the federal role in education generally.

Reagan won. And he meant what he said.

The 1980 Republican Party platform explicitly called for eliminating Carter's new department. In his 1982 State of the Union address, Reagan pledged that his upcoming budget would "realize major savings by dismantling the Department of Education."

It didn't happen. The Democrats controlled the House of Representatives, and they had no intention of undoing what Carter had created. Reagan did manage to significantly reduce the department's budget, but he couldn't kill it. By 1984, the Republican platform quietly dropped the call for elimination. By 1988, Reagan had reversed course entirely, requesting a budget increase from $18.4 billion to $20.3 billion—perhaps, observers noted, to reduce conflict with Congress.

The pattern was set: Republicans would campaign on eliminating the department, fail to do so, and eventually accommodate its existence. The department would survive and gradually grow.

The Growth Years

President George H.W. Bush took office in 1989 with a notably different approach than Reagan. Rather than trying to abolish the department, he worked with it, establishing education goals that would later be incorporated into President Bill Clinton's Goals 2000 initiative. The partisan gap on education narrowed.

Then came Newt Gingrich.

The 1994 Republican takeover of Congress—the first time Republicans controlled both chambers in forty years—seemed to signal a return to anti-department sentiment. The 1996 Republican platform made abolishing the Department of Education a cornerstone, declaring that "the Federal government has no constitutional authority to be involved in school curricula or to control jobs in the market place."

Yet something strange happened: despite controlling Congress and making abolition a campaign promise, Republicans oversaw a period where federal spending on education actually soared. The rhetoric said one thing; the appropriations said another.

No Child Left Behind

The most dramatic expansion of federal education involvement came under President George W. Bush, a Republican. His No Child Left Behind Act, signed in 2002, represented the largest federal intervention in elementary and secondary education in American history. The law required annual testing in reading and mathematics for students in grades three through eight, mandated that schools demonstrate "adequate yearly progress," and imposed consequences on schools that failed to meet targets.

The department's budget reflected this expanded role: it jumped from $46 billion in 2002 to $60 billion in 2004. Whatever Republicans said about eliminating the department, their actions told a different story.

In March 2007, Bush signed legislation naming the department's headquarters the Lyndon Baines Johnson Department of Education Building—a tribute to the Democratic president who had signed the original Elementary and Secondary Education Act in 1965, laying the groundwork for much of what the department does today.

What Does the Department Actually Do?

To understand the controversy, you need to understand the department's functions. It identifies four key roles:

First, and most significantly in dollar terms, the department establishes policies on federal financial aid for education and distributes those funds. This includes Pell Grants for college students, student loans, and various grants to schools and states. The Federal Student Aid office alone handles an enormous portfolio.

Second, the department collects data about American schools and disseminates research. This might sound dry, but reliable data about educational outcomes is essential for understanding what's working and what isn't.

Third, the department focuses national attention on key educational issues. This "bully pulpit" function is harder to measure but can be significant in shaping state and local priorities.

Fourth, and perhaps most controversially, the department enforces civil rights laws in education, prohibiting discrimination and ensuring equal access. The Office for Civil Rights investigates complaints about discrimination based on race, sex, disability, and other protected characteristics.

The department is also a member of the United States Interagency Council on Homelessness, working to ensure proper education for homeless and runaway youth.

The Modern Era: Obama to Biden

President Barack Obama's education agenda centered on the Race to the Top program, which encouraged states to adopt reforms—including the Common Core standards—in exchange for federal funding. Like No Child Left Behind before it, this approach attracted criticism from across the political spectrum: from progressives who objected to standardized testing and from conservatives who saw federal overreach.

In December 2015, Obama signed the Every Student Succeeds Act, which replaced No Child Left Behind. The new law gave states more flexibility while maintaining federal requirements for testing and reporting.

The COVID-19 pandemic dramatically affected the department's finances. In 2022, nominal departmental expenditure hit $639 billion—a staggering figure that reflected pandemic relief spending and, primarily, anticipated costs from student loan forgiveness. When the Supreme Court struck down President Biden's loan forgiveness plan in Biden v. Nebraska, no payments were actually made, requiring a balancing entry in subsequent budgets. The 2023 budget settled at $274 billion, still enormous by historical standards.

By 2024, the budget reached $268 billion, up from $14 billion at the department's founding. That's roughly a nineteen-fold increase in nominal terms. The staff, however, remained relatively small: about 4,000 employees, still the smallest of any cabinet department. This ratio—enormous financial flows managed by a small workforce—reflects the department's essential nature: it's primarily a funding and oversight body, not an operational one.

The Trump Era: Take Two

Donald Trump's first term saw relatively little action on eliminating the department. His second term, beginning in January 2025, was different.

On his first day back in office, Trump signed Executive Order 14148, eliminating several White House initiatives focused on educational equity—programs supporting Native American students, Black students, Hispanic students, and institutions serving these communities. These weren't the Department of Education itself, but housed within it.

In March 2025, Trump signed an executive order directing the Secretary of Education to "facilitate the closure of the Department of Education and return authority over education to the States and local communities." Linda McMahon, the wrestling executive Trump appointed as Education Secretary, was explicit about her mission. At her swearing-in, Trump declared, "I want her to put herself out of a job." McMahon agreed, stating when asked directly that the department "was not needed."

On March 11, 2025—just seven weeks into Trump's second term—the Department of Government Efficiency announced plans to fire nearly half the department's workforce, reducing staff from approximately 4,100 to about 2,100. The cuts fell heaviest on Federal Student Aid (which handles loans and financial aid) and the Office for Civil Rights (which enforces anti-discrimination laws).

The Legal Battle

Here's where the constitutional questions become practical: Can a president actually close a cabinet department that Congress created?

The short answer is no. Congress created the Department of Education through legislation. Only Congress can formally abolish it. However, a president has considerable power over how a department operates—including staffing levels, which programs receive emphasis, and how aggressively (or not) laws are enforced.

On May 22, 2025, U.S. District Judge Myong Joun in Boston blocked the mass layoffs and the attempt to dismantle the department. The Trump administration appealed. A federal appeals court declined to lift Joun's ruling on June 4.

Then the Supreme Court weighed in.

On July 14, 2025, the Supreme Court overturned the lower courts in a 6-3 decision, allowing the mass layoffs to proceed. The decision didn't resolve whether the department could be fully closed, but it cleared the way for the dramatic staff reductions the administration sought.

The Political Earthquake

What made this moment different from previous Republican threats to eliminate the department?

Several factors converged. The COVID-19 pandemic had created intense conflict over school closures, mask mandates, and remote learning. A parental rights movement emerged from this frustration, directing anger at both local school boards and federal education policy. Conservative opposition to what they characterized as progressive curricula—particularly regarding race, gender, and LGBTQ issues—intensified. These grievances created political energy that previous abolition efforts had lacked.

Project 2025, a policy blueprint created by the Heritage Foundation, included detailed plans for closing the Department of Education, privatizing public schools, ending subsidized school lunches, and creating a conservative curriculum for all public schools. Trump's policies have been frequently compared to this document, though he has sometimes distanced himself from it.

Public opinion, however, tells a different story than the political momentum might suggest. Multiple polls in February and March 2025 showed roughly two-thirds of Americans opposed closing the department. The National Education Association, representing 2.8 million teachers, argued that eliminating the department would harm millions of students in low-income communities who depend on federal educational services.

What Happens If It Actually Closes?

This is the practical question few have fully answered. The Department of Education administers about $268 billion in annual spending. That money doesn't disappear if the department does.

In November 2025, Secretary McMahon argued on social media that other federal agencies or state governments could absorb the department's grantmaking and informational functions. But the specifics remain unclear. Would student loans be administered by the Treasury Department? Would civil rights enforcement move to the Justice Department? Would states take over programs they currently implement with federal oversight?

The department resumed garnishing wages of defaulted student loan borrowers in April 2025, a reminder that even amid discussions of closure, critical functions continued.

NBC News noted a fundamental political reality: "Given their narrow majority, Republicans would need Democratic support" to formally close the department through legislation. "That would make it unlikely for such a bill to pass."

The Deeper Question

Beyond the immediate political battle lies a philosophical question Americans have debated since the founding: What role should the federal government play in education?

Those who support a strong federal role point to civil rights enforcement—the federal government ended segregation when states wouldn't. They point to equity—federal funding helps ensure that children in poor districts have access to resources that local property taxes alone couldn't provide. They point to national competitiveness—in a global economy, they argue, the nation needs coherent educational standards.

Those who oppose federal involvement point to the Constitution's silence on education. They argue that local control allows communities to make decisions reflecting their values. They contend that federal mandates create bureaucratic compliance burdens that distract from actual teaching. They believe that competition and choice, not federal programs, will improve educational outcomes.

These aren't simply partisan positions. The American Federation of Teachers and the National Education Association took opposite sides on creating the department in 1979. Progressives have criticized federal education policy under both Republican and Democratic administrations. The debate cuts across simple left-right lines, touching on federalism, civil rights, parental authority, educational philosophy, and the proper scope of government.

The Smallest Giant

Consider these numbers: 4,000 employees managing $268 billion. That works out to roughly $67 million per employee—an absurd figure that illustrates the department's unique nature. It doesn't run schools. It doesn't employ teachers. It doesn't write curricula. It moves money, sets conditions for receiving that money, collects data, enforces rights, and tries to influence a system that remains fundamentally local.

In 2025, the department's budget represented about four percent of total federal spending. Not enormous in percentage terms, but the absolute numbers matter enormously to the schools and students who receive federal support—especially those serving disadvantaged populations who depend disproportionately on federal funds.

Whether the Department of Education survives in recognizable form, shrinks to a shell of its current self, or eventually meets the fate Republicans have promised for forty-five years remains uncertain. What's clear is that the debate over federal education involvement isn't going away. The Constitution still doesn't mention education. States still run schools. And Americans still disagree fundamentally about who should have the final say over what—and how—their children learn.

The department that was demoted within a year of its first creation in 1867, that wandered bureaucratic exile for over a century, that was created to satisfy a president's campaign promise in 1980, and that has survived every subsequent attempt to destroy it now faces its most serious challenge. The Supreme Court has cleared the way for dramatic workforce reductions. The Secretary openly says her job is to eliminate her own department. The President has signed executive orders pushing toward closure.

Yet the fundamental constraints remain: Congress created the department, and only Congress can formally end it. The question now is whether what remains after executive action will be a department in any meaningful sense—or merely a legal shell awaiting an abolition that may never come.