分类: education

  • Records reveal Cuny investments in weapons firms supplying Israel

    Records reveal Cuny investments in weapons firms supplying Israel

    After a years-long campaign by pro-Palestinian student and faculty organizers, newly released financial records from the City University of New York (CUNY) have confirmed the public university system holds more than $715,000 in investments in major weapons manufacturers that supply military equipment and technology to the Israeli military. The disclosures, which came via a court-ordered settlement following a freedom of information lawsuit, mark a rare instance of a U.S. university publicly confirming such holdings, a detail most higher education institutions have long kept hidden from public view.

    The records, obtained by two campus advocacy groups — CUNY4Palestine and CUNY Law Students for Justice in Palestine (CUNY Law SJP) — reveal CUNY’s investment portfolio includes stakes in six major defense and military technology firms: Boeing, Lockheed Martin, Raytheon, Palantir, Elbit Systems, and General Dynamics. All six firms openly maintain active supply contracts with the Israeli army. A breakdown of 2025 holdings shows CUNY holds more than $319,000 in Boeing stock, roughly $65,300 in Lockheed Martin stock, $141,200 in Raytheon stock, and nearly $189,350 in Palantir stock — figures that activists say exceeded their initial expectations.

    Pro-Palestinian organizers have long flagged the specific role each firm plays in Israel’s military campaign in Gaza, which launched after the October 7, 2023 Hamas attacks on southern Israel. To date, the conflict has left more than 250,000 Palestinians in Gaza killed or injured and reduced much of the enclave to rubble. Activists note Boeing produces F-15 fighter jets, AH-64 Apache attack helicopters, and bunker-buster bombs that have been used in strikes across Gaza, Lebanon, and other regional conflict zones; Lockheed Martin and Raytheon manufacture the missiles and munitions deployed by Israeli ground and air forces; and Palantir provides surveillance and data management technology that the Israeli military relies on for targeting operations.

    In a joint statement released this week, the two advocacy groups argued CUNY’s financial ties to these firms make the university directly complicit in what they call the ongoing genocide of Palestinian people in Gaza. A CUNY faculty organizer, speaking through the groups, extended that criticism further, saying the investments also make CUNY complicit in broader imperialist violence across West Asia and the Global South, as well as in what they describe as fascist border enforcement carried out by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement and U.S. Customs and Border Protection.

    The release of the records follows years of organizing and transparency demands from pro-Palestinian groups on CUNY’s campuses. CUNY was one of the first U.S. universities to join the wave of Gaza solidarity encampments that spread across higher education institutions in April 2024, starting at Columbia University, where protesters demanded administrations disclose and divest from companies supplying Israel. Though ties between U.S. academia and the defense sector have long been an open secret, most universities have refused to release detailed breakdowns of their investment holdings to the public.

    In 2024, after the escalation of conflict in Gaza, CUNY4Palestine and CUNY Law SJP filed a Freedom of Information Law (FOIL) request to force CUNY leadership to release full details of its defense industry investments. When university administrators refused to turn over the records, activists and a student plaintiff filed a lawsuit — Sarah Southey v. City University of New York — to compel disclosure. The case reached a settlement in mid-August that required CUNY to release all investment records dating back to July 2023.

    Veronica Salama, senior staff attorney at the New York Civil Liberties Union, which supported the lawsuit, noted that while the disclosure marks a win for transparency, it is unacceptable that legal action was required to get public information from a taxpayer-funded institution. “While we’re grateful that the largest, urban public university in the country will finally disclose its investment records, it is outrageous that our client had to file this lawsuit in the first place,” Salama said in a statement.

    On Wednesday afternoon, campaigners planned a press conference outside New York City Hall to lay out the full details of the disclosures to the public. Activists say the released records are only the first part of a larger body of investment data, framing the $715,000 figure as “just the tip of the iceberg.” They have vowed to continue their campaign until CUNY divests all holdings from arms firms and redirects that funding toward institutional and community programs that serve public good. “As we declared during CUNY’s Gaza Solidarity Encampment: we will not stop, we will not rest until our tax and tuition dollars are divested from death and destruction and reinvested in life-sustaining institutions and practices! We demand CUNY live up to its name as a ‘People’s University!’” the groups’ statement read.

    The disclosures are also drawing new scrutiny to CUNY leadership and the crackdown on pro-Palestinian protests on its campuses. While high-profile encampments at Ivy League institutions like Harvard and Princeton drew widespread national and international media attention, CUNY’s protest movement has received far less coverage. Organizers and analysts argue that makes the new revelations even more significant: as the nation’s largest urban public university serving a working-class, majority minority student body across New York City, CUNY’s investment decisions carry unique public weight.

    Critics are also pointing to the political ties of CUNY’s top investment leadership. William C. Thompson, who currently chairs CUNY’s board executive committee and investment subcommittee — a post he has held since 2016 — was reappointed to a six-year term in June 2023 by New York Governor Kathy Hochul, a well-known staunch supporter of Israel. CUNY has not yet responded to requests for comment from media outlets including Middle East Eye, which first reported on the disclosures.

  • Families’ interest in their kids’ education is falling around the globe as scores drop, test shows

    Families’ interest in their kids’ education is falling around the globe as scores drop, test shows

    The 2023 round of the Programme for International Student Assessment (PISA), the world’s most comprehensive standardized evaluation of 15-year-olds’ academic proficiency, has delivered a stark warning to education systems across high-income economies: average scores in core subjects of math, reading, and science have hit their lowest point in the program’s 20+ year history.

    Organized by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD), the 2023 assessment drew more than 760,000 participants across dozens of nations, with results published this week confirming widespread declines. Even in the United States, which placed within the global top 15 for science, reading, and the new computational problem-solving category, scores for reading and math have fallen to their lowest level since PISA launched in the early 2000s — a trend that was only masked slightly by broader declines across other developed nations. Researchers also note the U.S. results should be interpreted with caution, as the country failed to meet the study’s required sample size standards for participating schools and students.

    What is driving this global slump in academic performance? OECD officials point to two interconnected factors: declining parental engagement in children’s learning, and unregulated overuse of digital and artificial intelligence tools in and out of the classroom.

    An accompanying student survey paired with PISA assessments found that nearly every high-income country recorded a drop in family investment in education between 2018 (the last full PISA round) and 2023, with the sharpest disengagement observed among boys. This disengagement is measured by how frequently parents discuss schoolwork with their children or actively participate in their learning progress. Andreas Schleicher, director of the OECD’s education and skills division, notes that many parents have shifted their perspective from active co-participants in education to passive clients of school systems.

    The performance gap tied to parental engagement is substantial. Even after adjusting for socioeconomic differences between students, teenagers who reported that a family member asks about their daily school experience at least once a week scored 35 points higher on the PISA science assessment than peers with less engaged families. That gap is equivalent to more than a year and a half of additional learning.

    Digital distraction is the second major contributor to falling scores. More than one in four students across high-income countries reported that classmates are distracted by personal digital devices in most or every science class. Data confirms that nations with strict school policies governing cellphone use see significantly lower distraction rates. When it comes to leisure use of digital devices, the link between heavy use and lower test scores is clear, Schleicher says, though the picture is more mixed for educational digital use: students who used edtech for 2 to 3 hours per day during school saw small score gains, but performance drops sharply once use exceeds that threshold.

    For artificial intelligence tools, the pattern mirrors that of general digital technology. Half of all students in developed economies now use AI chatbots for learning at least once a week, but the assessment found that higher AI use correlates with lower overall test scores, with students who never use chatbots outperforming their peers who use these tools regularly. That said, some nations have found a balanced, effective approach to integrating AI into learning: in China, Japan, Singapore, and Estonia, AI is used to support — not replace — teacher-led instruction. Schleicher highlighted one example from a Chinese elementary school, where students practice traditional ink calligraphy, and teachers use AI to scan and analyze student work to deliver personalized feedback on handwriting improvement — blending traditional teaching methods with AI-powered support, rather than letting technology lead classroom activity.

    Top performing spots in the 2023 PISA rankings were once again dominated by East Asian economies. Mainland China (with four provinces, Hong Kong, and Macao participating), Singapore, Taiwan, Japan, and South Korea took the highest overall marks, with Estonia, the United Kingdom, and New Zealand also ranking among the top performers. Fewer than 10% of students in top-ranked East Asian nations reported classroom digital distraction, a fraction of the rate seen in North America and Western Europe. In the four participating Chinese provinces, nearly 100% of students scored at or above the baseline proficiency level for math and reading, compared to just 65% for math and 74% for reading in the U.S.

    Education experts warn that the growing gap in academic performance between the U.S. and top-performing East Asian systems carries major long-term geopolitical implications. “To win a technological race, you need the people with the science and the technology and the reading capabilities,” said Tracey Burns, chief of global strategy and research at the National Center for Education and the Economy, an organization that studies high-performing education systems worldwide.

  • India’s high-stakes exam system faces a crisis of trust

    India’s high-stakes exam system faces a crisis of trust

    Eight years after India established the National Testing Agency (NTA) to fix longstanding flaws in the country’s examination system, the body tasked with restoring public trust in high-stakes standardized testing is now grappling with its own major crisis of credibility.

    When the NTA was launched in 2017 under India’s federal Ministry of Education, it was created to deliver a testing framework defined by fairness, transparency, and consistency. For decades prior, India’s national entrance and eligibility exams were plagued by persistent issues: widespread paper leaks, administrative mismanagement, and repeated allegations of organized cheating. Over its first term in operation, the NTA absorbed oversight of the country’s most competitive and high-volume assessments, including undergraduate and postgraduate medical entrance exams, top engineering school admissions, university entry screening, and eligibility tests for teaching and research roles.

    The current crisis erupted in June 2025, when a leak of the NEET-UG, India’s critical undergraduate medical entrance examination, forced more than 2 million test-takers to retake the exam. The incident triggered weeks of widespread youth-led protests across the country, which ultimately culminated in the resignation of India’s federal education minister. In response to the public outcry, the government moved quickly to appoint a high-level reform task force, headed by renowned Indian tech tycoon Nandan Nilekani, tasked with identifying structural fixes and rebuilding public confidence in the national testing system.

    For many Indian citizens, however, this announcement triggered an all-too-familiar sense of deja vu. In 2024, a similar high-level expert panel was convened after widespread irregularities in another national medical entrance exam sparked mass unrest. That committee put forward more than 100 targeted reforms, but official reports confirm only just over half of these changes have been fully implemented to date. The pattern has become a frustrating cycle for stakeholders: an exam scandal breaks, students take to the streets, a new committee is formed, reform proposals are published, and gaps in the system remain unaddressed—until the next crisis exposes the same unresolved weaknesses.

    Experts consulted by the BBC note that the problems facing India’s testing system extend far beyond isolated incidents of paper leaks. Core issues include a lack of institutional accountability at the NTA, insufficient operational capacity, over-centralization of national testing, flawed exam design, and fundamental questions about whether India’s model of high-stakes single-sitting testing is fit for purpose for a country with millions of annual test-takers.

    BJ Rao, a member of the 2024 reform panel and current vice-chancellor of SGT University near New Delhi, argues that India must accelerate the transition to fully computer-based testing to cut the risk of paper leaks, boost operational efficiency, and minimize unnecessary human intervention in exam administration. “Digital connectivity has vastly improved across every corner of the country over the past decade. What we need to do now is allocate targeted resources, prioritize upgrading testing infrastructure, and make the full shift to computer-based exams,” Rao explained in an interview. “Right now, we rely on ad hoc, temporary testing centers. These need to be replaced with a network of standardized, state-run online testing facilities across the country.”

    Even so, Rao emphasizes that technology alone cannot fix the systemic flaws plaguing the NTA. He points to the agency’s extreme over-reliance on temporary contract staff: official government data shows only 24 of the NTA’s 221 total employees hold permanent positions, and most existing permanent staff come from traditional bureaucratic backgrounds rather than educational assessment. “When the vast majority of personnel work on short-term contracts, there is no real sense of institutional ownership or accountability, and that directly undermines core operational functions,” Rao explained. “We need skilled specialists with deep academic backgrounds and hands-on experience running large-scale assessments to deliver strong management and oversight of the system.”

    Other education experts argue that repeated crises have revealed deep flaws not just in how exams are administered, but in how they are structured. Keshav Aggarwal, educationist and president of the Educators Federation, points to the NEET-UG—the exam whose leak sparked this year’s protests—as a test that could be restructured to mirror the format of India’s popular engineering entrance exam, which is fully computer-based and split across two stages. Instead of tying a student’s entire future to a single high-stakes test sitting, Aggarwal proposes holding exams across multiple sessions with unique question sets for each session. “Splitting assessments across different stages and test days with varying question banks would cut the risk posed by any single compromised exam and make the entire system far more resilient to disruptions,” Aggarwal explained.

    Many experts also question whether an annual single-sitting exam can ever function fairly when millions of students compete for a tiny pool of limited university seats. Yamini Aiyar, a senior visiting fellow at Brown University, says India should adopt the model common across many Western nations, where students can sit major entrance exams multiple times per year. “This would give students a second chance if an exam is cancelled or they have an off day on test day, eliminating the catastrophic risk of losing an entire year of academic progress,” Aiyar says. That risk is not abstract for millions of young Indians: many spend multiple years preparing for entrance exams and invest tens of thousands of rupees in private coaching, meaning a leaked, cancelled, or delayed exam can completely upend months or even years of careful preparation.

    Seventeen-year-old Pari experienced this crippling uncertainty first-hand this year. After sitting for the original NEET-UG exam, she was forced to retake the entire test after the paper leak forced a full cancellation of the initial session. “It was incredibly frustrating. All of our preparation felt like it had gone to waste, and we had to start all over from scratch,” she said. Her experience left her deeply frustrated by the cycle of repeated exam failures across the system. “The government can form as many committees as they want. What we need is a system strong enough to stop paper leaks from happening ever again.”

    Twenty-three-year-old Mansi Bansal shares a similar story. She spent months preparing for the UGC-NET, the national eligibility test for entry-level college teaching positions. The exam was first cancelled after a 2024 paper leak, and then delayed again this year after the NTA confirmed question errors across three subject tests. Bansal, who was taking the commerce subject exam, is scheduled to retake the test on September 9. “I put my entire life on hold for these months: I stopped going to the gym, stopped hanging out with friends, even skipped family gatherings,” she said. “I planned my entire year around this exam, and now everything is up in the air. Can the government even promise me another leak won’t happen this time?”

    These widespread negative experiences have fueled growing calls from student activists and opposition political parties to abolish the NTA entirely. But most education experts argue that scrapping the agency would not fix the underlying systemic problems, and would likely create new complications. M Jagadesh Kumar, former chairman of India’s University Grants Commission, the national regulator for higher education, says the NTA needs deep structural reform to address repeated failures, but full abolition is not the solution. “A single national testing body allows for uniform security standards, shared technological infrastructure, consistent candidate services, and standardized result processing. Creating multiple smaller testing agencies would only duplicate administrative costs and lead to uneven security safeguards across regions,” Kumar told India’s PTI news agency.

    Rao echoed that perspective, noting that the NTA is not entirely without success. “It’s not all bad news. The agency has successfully administered dozens of large-scale exams over the years with no reports of leaks or major irregularities,” he said. What the system requires, Rao argues, is a formal statutory institution staffed by full-time specialists with the academic, technical, and operational expertise needed to run a truly secure national testing system.

    For some analysts, however, the core debate extends far beyond the NTA as an institution. Aiyar argues that the larger issue is not just preventing the next paper leak, but whether a highly centralized national testing system can ever cope with the extreme competition for limited educational opportunities that defines higher education in India. The NTA may be able to implement reforms that make exams more secure, she says, “But it cannot, at least on its own, fix a system where millions of students compete for a tiny number of prestigious seats, and a single exam can make or break an entire young person’s future.”

    Many experts agree that meaningful reform must go further than fixing the NTA: India needs a testing system that is less reliant on one-off, high-stakes exams, offers students multiple testing opportunities, and is built to withstand disruptions. Rao says he remains optimistic that the new Nilekani-led task force will deliver actionable changes to close gaps in the current system. But for millions of Indian students, yet another expert committee offers little real reassurance, unless it delivers tangible, visible changes to the system they rely on for their future.

    “I’m studying for my university entrance exam next year,” said one 16-year-old 12th grade student. “In the back of my head, I’m already prepared there might be another leak. But what can we do about it? I’ll just keep preparing and hope for the best.”

  • Air raid alert shatters first day of school in Kyiv after overnight Russian missile strikes

    Air raid alert shatters first day of school in Kyiv after overnight Russian missile strikes

    On a Tuesday morning in Kyiv’s Obolon district, just hours after Russian ballistic missile strikes rattled Ukraine’s capital overnight, festive balloons drifted across a school playground. Groggy but determined parents and children in celebration attire gathered to the sound of music, marking the traditional kickoff of a new academic year — the fifth such start since Russia’s full-scale invasion. Within seconds, however, the joyful atmosphere shattered: an air raid siren wailed, the crowd scattered, and laughter and melody were replaced by the rumble of distant explosions.

    This jarring interruption has become the new normal for Ukrainian education, as the country enters another school year with no end to the ongoing war in sight. Over the course of nearly three years of full-scale conflict, thousands of schools across the nation have been forced to reinvent themselves to survive. Many have shifted to fully remote or hybrid learning models, others hold lessons in bomb shelters, and countless facilities in destroyed or Russian-occupied territories have been shuttered entirely. Russian attacks have already leveled an estimated 1 million educational textbooks, and national officials are bracing for what is projected to be one of the harshest winters of the war, with repeated expectations of widespread power outages and infrastructure disruptions.

    As Russia ramps up the intensity of its assault, the cumulative strain of years of conflict weighs heavily on every layer of Ukrainian society. Ukrainian air defense systems still lack sufficient capabilities to intercept the growing barrage of high-speed Russian ballistic missiles, while repeated waves of Shahed attack drones can stretch air raid alerts and attacks across multiple consecutive days. For school administrators like Yevhen Poliakov, principal of Kyiv’s Lyceum Obolon, the choice to hold an in-person opening ceremony was a difficult one. After weighing the risks, he opted to move forward, confident that his school’s on-site bomb shelter would let students reach safety quickly — a bet that paid off when the siren sounded.

    Kyiv’s city education administration has outlined a flexible plan for the 2024-2025 academic year: most schools will operate with a mix of in-person and remote instruction, shifting models immediately in response to changing security conditions. Back in August, Ukrainian Education Minister Andrii Butenko released national data showing that of the country’s general secondary schools, 8,424 will run fully in-person, 1,306 fully remote, and 2,211 will use a blended format — meaning nearly one-third of all secondary schools cannot operate at full in-person capacity this year.

    Poliakov has long prioritized keeping students in the classroom, pointing to the well-documented downsides of extended remote learning. “Parents need to go to work to earn a living,” he explained. “We can teach their children here, and it is far better for a kid to be under our supervision than locked alone in a ninth-floor apartment with only a dog for company, with no idea what to do with themselves while mom and dad are gone.” To support flexible learning, his lyceum uses Mriia, Ukraine’s national digital education portal and app, to connect students, parents, teachers and administrators for seamless remote instruction when needed. The school is also retrofitting and expanding its shelter, stockpiling firewood and making other preparations for potential winter blackouts.

    Across Kyiv, the impact of recent attacks is impossible to ignore. At one school damaged in a Russian strike just days before the start of the term, only a small handful of families showed up for an informal opening ceremony. Three school buildings suffered extensive damage to windows, facades, hallways, doors and classroom equipment, so nearly all students began the year learning online. Still, some families made the trip anyway: Oksana Herasymchuk brought her daughter, who was starting middle school, to mark the occasion. Her daughter began first grade in 2022, just months after the full-scale invasion began, and the entire family has struggled to adapt to the constant uncertainty of wartime life. In the wake of the latest attack, Herasymchuk says she has no clear idea what comes next for her daughter’s education. “Our children’s generation has already had to face so many trials,” she said.

    For Yevhen Yurko, bringing his 6-year-old son Darii to the school for his first day was a deliberate act of normalcy. Darii’s first official lesson was held online, but he wanted to see the school building in person. Yurko photographed his son wearing a traditional embroidered vyshyvanka shirt standing in the nearly empty playground. “Even when everything is like this, I still wanted to have something to remember this day by,” Yurko said. He and his wife plan to remain in Kyiv and keep Darii enrolled at the school, convinced that he can get a quality education there even if all lessons end up being held in a basement shelter.

    Official data from Kyiv’s education department shows that since the start of the full-scale invasion, 318 education facilities across the city have been damaged by Russian attacks, including 156 primary and secondary schools. Some facilities have been hit multiple times, ranging from two to eight separate strikes. The number of first-graders enrolling in Kyiv schools has plummeted by roughly 40% since 2022, falling from 28,500 on September 1 2022 to just 16,600 this year. Nationwide, the total number of school-aged children in Ukraine has dropped by 17.5% — more than 755,000 students — since the 2021-2022 academic year, before the full-scale invasion began.

    Anna Putsova, co-founder of the savED charitable foundation that supports Ukrainian education during the war, summed up the current state of the sector: “Ukrainian education right now feels like a constant obstacle course. The system adapts, but conditions often change faster than you can build one stable model and say ‘now we work like this.’” Putsova emphasized that the long-term toll of the conflict on education extends far beyond damaged buildings: accumulated learning loss, a shrinking student population, and overwhelming burnout among teachers and administrators create overlapping crises that threaten the country’s future. “School is an environment where a child learns to interact with others, build relationships, work in a group, resolve conflicts, be part of a community,” she noted. “For some Ukrainian children, there hasn’t been a normal school experience in several years.”

    The impact of the war varies drastically across regions, Putsova explained. Some frontline areas face nonstop air raid alerts that disrupt classes multiple times a day, while other regions have relied almost exclusively on online learning for years, because safe in-person classes can only be held underground. In some host communities, an influx of internally displaced children has outstripped available school capacity, while other areas have lost so many students to displacement or emigration that schools have been forced to merge or close permanently. Among regions where savED operates, more than 92% of schools in Ukrainian-held southern Kherson are damaged or destroyed, alongside 39% in Mykolaiv, more than 67% in eastern Kharkiv, and nearly 54% in northern Sumy.

    In the long run, Putsova argued, the crisis in education is not just a problem for the current school year — it threatens Ukraine’s long-term prosperity as an independent nation. “In the long term, this is no longer just a question of school,” she said. “The knowledge level of today’s children will determine the quality of future specialists, the productivity of the economy, the country’s ability to create complex products and technologies.”

  • Educators keep 9/11 memory alive for next generation, 25 years on

    Educators keep 9/11 memory alive for next generation, 25 years on

    A quarter-century has passed since the catastrophic September 11, 2001 attacks that killed nearly 3,000 people across New York, Washington D.C., and Pennsylvania, but a growing network of educators, volunteer groups, and charitable organizations are racing to preserve the legacy of the tragedy for a generation of American young people born long after the planes struck. Today’s teenagers and younger children have no personal memory of the deadliest attack on U.S. soil, and systemic gaps in national education standards have left many of them with incomplete or fragmented knowledge of the day that reshaped modern U.S. history.

    Unlike core historical events that are embedded in standardized national curricula, there is no federally mandated framework for teaching 9/11 across the United States. Only a small number of U.S. states require 9/11 education, resulting in an uneven patchwork of instruction that varies widely from district to district. To close this gap, independent volunteers, frontline teachers, and nonprofits have stepped forward to lead targeted educational initiatives that bring the tragedy to life far beyond textbook pages.

    One of the most prominent efforts is centered at Wantagh High School, a Long Island institution whose local community lost 12 residents in the 2001 attacks. For years, school leaders noted that students learned about 9/11 the same way they studied World War II or the 1941 Pearl Harbor attack: as a distant historical event that occurred before their lifetimes. Wantagh High Principal Paul Guzzone explains that classroom lectures and online videos can never match the impact of a first-hand visit to the site where the Twin Towers once stood. “You can’t compare the experience of visiting the site with just hearing stories in the classroom or seeing videos online,” the 41-year-old principal said.

    That hands-on impact resonated deeply with 17-year-old Max Avena, who visited the National 9/11 Memorial and Museum on a school trip organized through the initiative. Though Avena grew up hearing stories from close family friends who served as first responders during the attack, he said the on-site visit left him speechless and fundamentally changed his understanding of the tragedy. “You never really realize how real it is, and how the feeling is, until you’re on site in the memorial,” he told reporters.

    To cover the cost of annual student trips to the downtown Manhattan memorial, the Gary Sinise Foundation — a charitable organization best known for its work supporting veterans and first responders — stepped in to fund the visits, later expanding its support to include on-campus memorial projects and expanded educational programming. The foundation already ran a well-regarded World War II education initiative that brought Wantagh students to a New Orleans museum, so expanding to 9/11 education was a natural next step.

    James Ravella, the foundation’s executive vice president, noted that even many new teachers graduating from U.S. colleges today have no personal memory of the 9/11 attacks, making structured outside support even more critical. “It just kind of makes it important that we tell this story and educate as many people as we can, while we can, and while [survivors and first responders] are here,” Ravella said. Guzzone echoed this concern, adding that first-hand, lived memory of the attacks fades a little more each year. Beyond its Wantagh partnership, the foundation now runs professional development programs for teachers in collaboration with the National 9/11 Memorial and Museum, and organizes student trips to both the Pentagon attack site and the Flight 93 National Memorial in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, where passengers and crew overtook hijackers en route to the U.S. Capitol, crashing the plane and killing all on board.

    For younger elementary school students, organizers have developed age-appropriate digital educational resources to introduce core concepts of the tragedy, sacrifice, and memory. One example is “OOPA’s World of Words,” an online video series created in partnership with the National Fallen Firefighters Foundation (NFFF) that teaches basic vocabulary tied to 9/11 — including words like “anniversary,” “emergency,” “hero,” “memory,” and “service” — to children as young as five. The five-part series features first-hand accounts from people touched by the attacks, including an 11-year-old girl whose grandfather was a first responder at the Pentagon.

    Series creator Rupa Mehta, a teacher who plays the titular character OOPA, said she was inspired to launch the project after seeing a young child interviewed on the news on a 9/11 anniversary. The girl expressed deep sadness that her school did not teach about the attacks, saying she felt her family’s legacy of sacrifice had been ignored. “It was in that moment… I thought that we could lend a hand and be a powerful potential partner,” Mehta said. NFFF chief executive Victor Stagnaro noted that the digital resource will remain accessible “for generations to come,” allowing 9/11 first responders to share their stories with their grandchildren while they are still able to do so.

  • Inquest opens into death of ex-Cambridge University professor Jason Arday

    Inquest opens into death of ex-Cambridge University professor Jason Arday

    LONDON — A formal coroner’s inquest has launched into the sudden passing of 41-year-old Jason Arday, a trailblazing Cambridge University professor who resigned his post last month amid intense public scrutiny over alleged academic misconduct and inflated personal achievement claims.

    Arday, who made history in 2023 as Cambridge University’s youngest Black professor, was found dead at a residential address in south London on August 13, just eight days after stepping down from his role as Professor of Sociology of Education. The first short preliminary hearing for the inquest was held this Wednesday at London Inner South Coroner’s Court, a standard procedure for any death in the United Kingdom marked by unclear circumstances.

    Senior Corer Dr. Julian Morris told the court that available documentation leads him to classify Arday’s death as unnatural, 12 days after it occurred. “It therefore follows that I must open an investigation,” Morris confirmed. While law enforcement have labeled the death unexpected, they have stressed there are no suspicious circumstances surrounding the passing.

    The controversy that preceded Arday’s resignation and death began when Nathan Cofnas, a former Cambridge philosophy researcher, first raised public questions about Arday’s academic credentials last month. Cofnas, who left Cambridge after his sharp criticism of diversity, equity and inclusion programs triggered widespread campus protests, has previously claimed that in a purely merit-based system, Black people would be almost entirely excluded from high-profile positions outside of sports and entertainment. Last week, Cofnas was suspended from his current academic post at Ghent University in Belgium, though the suspension has not been officially linked to the Arday controversy.

    Following Cofnas’ initial accusations, UK news outlets published reports claiming that more than 100 passages from Arday’s 2015 doctoral dissertation matched verbatim or nearly verbatim content from an earlier academic paper written by another researcher. Beyond the plagiarism claims, public scrutiny extended to a series of personal claims Arday had made throughout his career. These included assertions that he had raised £5.5 million ($7.5 million) for charity through extreme endurance feats, such as running 30 marathons in 35 days and 600 miles in six days. Arday later amended these fundraising and achievement claims. Critics also questioned his widely shared personal narrative of overcoming severe developmental delays that left him non-verbal until age 11; Arday stated he received an autism diagnosis in childhood and remained unable to read or write until he turned 18.

    Before his resignation on August 5, Arday publicly denied all allegations of intentional plagiarism, though he acknowledged that he had made minor errors in citation and sourcing when completing his doctorate.

    News of Arday’s death sparked an immediate wave of mourning across academic and social circles. A community fundraiser launched in his memory has already raised close to £225,000 ($305,000) from more than 7,900 individual donors. All funds raised are designated to support Arday’s family with living and financial costs, as well as cover funeral and memorial service expenses.

    The formal opening of the inquest comes just one day before the UK publication of Arday’s memoir, *Great and Unfortunate Things*, by publisher Simon & Schuster. The book, which was released in the United States earlier this August, chronicles Arday’s personal life story: from growing up as an autistic, non-verbal child who remained illiterate until his late teens, to breaking barriers as the youngest Black professor in Cambridge’s centuries-long history.

  • University suspends academic behind Jason Arday plagiarism charges

    University suspends academic behind Jason Arday plagiarism charges

    In a development that has rocked academic circles across the Atlantic, Belgium’s Ghent University has suspended an American postdoctoral researcher who led high-profile plagiarism accusations against Jason Arday, the former University of Cambridge black professor who was found dead last week just days after resigning amid the growing controversy.

    The academic in question, Nathan Cofnas — a self-identified “race realist” who was dismissed from a position at Cambridge two years ago — announced his suspension via social media platform X, writing, “I was just suspended by Ghent University. They will almost certainly fire me.”

    In an official statement released Thursday, Ghent University confirmed it had opened a preliminary disciplinary investigation into the postdoc tied to the unfolding scandal, opting to suspend the researcher as a precautionary measure, though it did not explicitly name Cofnas in the announcement. The institution’s leadership has already stressed that while it upholds core commitments to academic freedom and open debate even around controversial views, that freedom is not absolute: it must be paired with personal responsibility, and can be limited to safeguard the dignity and rights of others.

    The tragedy at the center of this disciplinary action is the death of 41-year-old Arday, who made history in 2023 when he became Cambridge’s youngest-ever black professor. Arday, who was diagnosed with autism and other developmental conditions in childhood, had been facing a cascade of claims that he plagiarized segments of his doctoral thesis and inflated key personal and professional achievements. He had forcefully denied all accusations, but ultimately stepped down from his post on August 5, writing in his resignation letter that he had “reached the limits of what any person should reasonably be expected to endure.” One week later, he was found dead.

    Plagiarism concerns around Arday first emerged years ago, but the claims never gained traction at that time: one reporter who pursued the story abandoned further investigation after Arday threatened legal action. That changed last month, when Cofnas publicly came forward to allege he had uncovered dozens of instances of plagiarism in Arday’s academic work. The claim rapidly snowballed into a national scandal in the UK, earning blanket media coverage on both sides of the Atlantic.

    The row quickly became politicized, with British right-wing media and commentators leveraging the accusations to argue that Arday had secured his prestigious position through unfair advantage gained by university diversity, equality and inclusion (DEI) policies. Following Arday’s death, Ghent University moved quickly to address public concern over Cofnas’ involvement, releasing an initial statement Wednesday saying it was “shocked” by the professor’s passing and took all public statements from its researcher “very seriously.”

    The institution’s leadership reaffirmed its values in that initial statement, noting, “Ghent University stands for respect for human dignity and opposes discrimination, hatred and racism. We attach great importance to academic freedom and to open academic debate, even when views are controversial. However, that freedom is not unlimited. It goes hand in hand with responsibility and may be restricted in order to protect the rights of others.”

    Now, the university says it is in the process of assessing whether there is sufficient evidence to move forward with full formal disciplinary proceedings against Cofnas, a step that could ultimately lead to his termination from the institution.

  • Broken toilets, leaking roofs: Why India’s ‘cockroach’ party wants to fix schools

    Broken toilets, leaking roofs: Why India’s ‘cockroach’ party wants to fix schools

    On the outskirts of India’s capital New Delhi, a freshly painted single-story girls’ government primary school in Faridabad’s Khedi Kalan village presents a deceptively respectable face from the road. Up close, however, the decay is impossible to miss: the access road is pocked with potholes brimming with contaminated water, crumbling plaster peels from classroom ceilings, half of the school’s eight toilets are clogged with garbage and unusable, and four of its nine classrooms have been shuttered entirely, deemed too structurally dangerous to host children. During monsoon season, local social worker Satpal Narwat explains, the remaining occupied rooms flood regularly, leaving children with no dry space to sit and learn.

    This dilapidated campus is far from an anomaly across India. Decades of chronic underfunding, chronic understaffing, and systemic neglect have left most rural government schools in a state of catastrophic disrepair, laying bare deep inequities in access to quality education for low-income and marginalized communities across the country.

    Currently, India allocates just 4.1% of its total GDP to public education – a figure that only meets UNESCO’s minimum 4% threshold, and lags far behind peer nations. France, Germany, Australia, Brazil, and the United States all invest more than 5% of GDP in education, while Belgium and Sweden commit even higher shares. Both independent education experts and the Indian government’s own National Education Policy (NEP) have long recommended raising national education investment to 6% of GDP, a target that has yet to be met.

    Official data underscores the scale of the crisis: between the 2014-15 and 2024-25 academic years, more than 94,000 government schools across India have closed permanently. A report from government policy think tank Niti Aayog notes that some closures came from administrative mergers intended to streamline the public education system, but acknowledges that falling enrollment has also driven the trend, as families abandon under-resourced government schools for private alternatives when they can afford to do so.

    The crumbling state of India’s public education system has become the target of a new grassroots campaign launched by the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP), an online satirical activist movement that grabbed global headlines earlier this year for a weeks-long protest in Delhi that ended with the resignation of federal Education Minister Dharmendra Pradhan. That earlier demonstration was sparked by the May 2025 leak of the NEET medical entrance exam, which forced nearly 2 million students to retake the high-stakes test. More than 20 students died by suicide in the wake of the scandal, with their families blaming systemic government negligence for the chaos.

    CJP’s latest campaign, branded #SchoolThikKaro or #FixTheSchool, aims to draw national attention to the failing infrastructure of rural government schools and pressure authorities to implement urgent reforms. In an interview with the BBC, CJP founder Abhijeet Dipke explained the core mission of the movement: rural government schools have been sidelined for generations, leaving children from low-income village households locked out of the equal educational opportunities available to their peers in big cities. Without access to functional learning facilities, many rural youth are forced into low-wage agricultural, construction, or daily labor work simply because they never had the chance to pursue a quality education. Dipke says the campaign is working to close that gap.

    After visiting more than 20 rural government schools across the country in recent weeks, Dipke told reporters he did not find a single campus that met basic standards for student safety and learning. “There were no benches, no bathrooms, no drinking water, no facilities at all. Even animals would not be kept in such a place,” he said, describing the experience as deeply heartbreaking. Dipke noted that the conditions he observed are identical to what he saw visiting his own childhood village 20 years ago – and that nothing has improved in the intervening decades.

    Dipke and other CJP leaders have shared dozens of user-generated videos with the movement’s 26 million Instagram followers, showing leaking roofs, overflowing dirty toilets, students sitting on dirt floors, and frustrated young people speaking out about the lack of basic resources. The group’s demands are straightforward: functional desks, clean working restrooms, safe drinking water, and upgraded digital smart classrooms that give rural students the same quality of learning as students in elite urban private schools.

    As of yet, Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) has not issued a public comment on the #FixTheSchool campaign, and the federal education ministry has not responded to requests for comment from the BBC. Still, the CJP’s activism has already emboldened students across the country to speak out, sparking a wave of local protests and viral social media posts that have forced officials to act on longstanding complaints. In Raigad, Maharashtra, a viral video of schoolgirls mocking the unusable, muddy road leading to their campus prompted local authorities to complete repairs within days. In Uttar Pradesh, students marched to the district magistrate’s office to demand a new access road, while another viral clip showed female students challenging a local official to send his own children to a school in such poor condition.

    Senior journalist and political analyst Nilanjan Mukhopadhyay says the CJP’s earlier protest over the NEET leak quickly expanded beyond demands for a minister’s resignation to a broader reckoning with systemic failures in India’s public education system. The #FixTheSchool campaign, he notes, is a natural next step for the movement. The flood of user-submitted videos documenting poor infrastructure, he says, is clear evidence that the campaign is gaining widespread public support. “It can’t be Jantar Mantar 2.0 as it will be much slower and a long-lasting movement,” Mukhopadhyay explains. “But the CJP will get a lot of support for the campaign because there’s plenty to talk about that’s wrong with the schools.”

    Beyond crumbling infrastructure, a chronic shortage of teaching and support staff is one of the most crippling issues facing public schools, according to Chatar Singh, treasurer of the Primary Teachers’ Association in Haryana (the state where Faridabad is located) and head teacher of a primary school in Atmadpur village. Singh’s school is widely considered one of the better-resourced campuses in the region, with a new building funded by a private corporate social responsibility grant and a collection of student academic trophies. Even so, basic services regularly break down: during a BBC visit, a strong stench emanated from the school’s toilets, which had not been cleaned in two days after the part-time government-appointed cleaner called out sick.

    For Singh, however, understaffing is a far larger crisis than dirty restrooms. His campus serves 910 students with a roster of 40 full-time teachers – but during the BBC’s visit, 30 of those teachers had been reassigned to non-teaching government work updating voter rolls, four more were out sick, leaving just six teachers to supervise all 910 students. “Teachers are hired to teach, but across India, government deploys them to do a lot of non-teaching assignments. They are used for election duty and to conduct Census. Most of my teachers have been on voters’ list revision duty since July. It’s affecting the quality of education,” Singh explained. When asked why government schools remain chronically underfunded and neglected, he put the blame squarely on the disconnect between political leaders and public education: the children of bureaucrats, MPs, and senior politicians almost never attend government schools – nearly all send their own kids to elite private institutions that they can afford. Most students at rural government schools are children of low-wage migrant laborers, and the vast majority come from historically marginalized lower castes and communities. Anyone who can scrape together the money to pay private school tuition moves their children out, Singh says.

    That pattern has played out for decades in Khedi Kalan village, where Narwat, the 62-year-old local social worker, attended the now-dilapidated girls’ primary school himself between 1968 and 1973. When he was a student, the building was new, all eight rooms were in use, and it was the only school available for all boys and girls in the village. Flooding became a permanent problem 15 years ago, when local officials raised the level of the adjacent road, leaving the entire school campus below road level and prone to collecting rainwater. Narwat sent his own children to the same government school initially, but eventually transferred them to a private school because of the better facilities. Today, he sends his grandchildren to private school as well – the tuition is a heavy expense, he says, but the local government schools lack libraries, laboratories, and consistent teaching because so many staff are pulled away for non-teaching work.

    Just a few hundred meters from the girls’ school, Narwat showed the BBC the village’s boys’ primary school, where classes are currently held in just two small rooms and an outdoor veranda. A second building that once housed three classrooms was condemned as structurally unsafe and demolished five years ago, with official promises that a new, upgraded building would be built in its place. Today, the empty lot is used as a parking stand for student bicycles.

    Over decades of advocacy, Narwat has petitioned the state chief minister, local members of parliament, district officials, and even the National Human Rights Commission to demand upgrades for both village schools. He says almost nothing has changed in all that time. The #FixTheSchool campaign, however, has given him cautious new hope that the issue will finally get the national attention it deserves. “I think the CJP can be a force for good. They’ve taught people to fight, to not be afraid,” Narwat says. “The government has all the power and resources. And now they have to perform.”

  • This school teaches Senegal’s brightest girls to push back against patriarchal norms

    This school teaches Senegal’s brightest girls to push back against patriarchal norms

    Nestled on Senegal’s historic Goree Island, just off the capital Dakar’s coast, the Mariama Ba Boarding School stands as a radical experiment in gender empowerment – one that is reshaping the trajectories of a small but growing group of young Senegalese women, even as broader systemic barriers to gender equality persist across the country.

    For Ndeye Awa Diop, admission to the school at age 12 marked a complete reversal of the life she had been raised to expect. Growing up in a rural Senegalese community, Diop was taught the traditional expectations imposed on girls in this majority-Muslim West African nation: remain quiet, defer to elders, and be seen rather than heard. So shy she could not meet others’ eyes, Diop spent her first weeks at the school homesick and too afraid to raise her hand in class. Seven years later, the 19-year-old serves as president of the student body, on the cusp of graduation, and ready to pursue a career as an international business lawyer. “I learned to be a leader,” Diop said, adding that the sisterhood of her classmates carried her through the hardest early days. For Diop, who is the first girl from her village to earn a spot at the school, the shift in mindset has been profound: unlike most young Senegalese women of her age, starting a family is not her immediate priority. “To be a strong woman is not to be afraid to be alone,” she said.

    Senegal has made notable public progress toward gender equity in recent decades. Progressive national legislation requires that women make up half of all political parties’ candidate slates, and formal law guarantees women equal access to land ownership, at least on paper. In primary education, girls’ enrollment rates now outpace those of boys, a major milestone for a region where girls’ access to schooling has long lagged. Yet deep-rooted cultural and economic barriers keep millions of girls from reaching their potential. When household finances are stretched, families almost always prioritize keeping boys in school over girls, even when girls demonstrate stronger academic performance. Girls often miss classes once they reach menstruation due to lack of proper hygiene infrastructure, and early marriage and teenage pregnancy drive many out of school before graduation. Today, fewer than 20% of Senegalese girls complete high school, and national literacy data shows just 84 literate women for every 100 literate men. “The current challenge isn’t access to school for girls, but rather the completion of schooling up to secondary level and, of course, the transition to the job market,” explained Maissa Abdellaoui, a girls’ education specialist with UNICEF.

    Against this backdrop, the Mariama Ba school was founded in 1985 by Senegal’s first president, Leopold Sedar Senghor, named for one of the nation’s most iconic female writers. Mariama Ba, the school’s namesake, was a trailblazing author whose work explored the tension between traditional Senegalese life and modern women’s aspirations, openly criticizing the nation’s widespread practice of polygamy and deeply entrenched patriarchal norms. Though she was a lifelong advocate for gender equality and a three-time divorcee at a time when divorce for women was virtually unheard of, Ba rejected the label of feminist, which she viewed as a Western import.

    The school itself is housed in a former French military barracks on Goree Island, a site of profound historical weight: as Africa’s westernmost point, it was once the largest hub of the trans-Atlantic slave trade. Today, the car-free island is a serene space of cobblestone streets, and the school’s courtyards bloom with bougainvillea, baobabs and palm trees, with the constant sound of ocean waves and birdsong in the background. Selectivity is extreme: each year, just 35 girls are admitted from 150 top-performing applicants who qualify to take the entrance exam, and all tuition and boarding costs are fully covered by the Senegalese government. The school boasts a 100% high school graduation rate, a statistic unheard of across the rest of the nation.

    Over six years of secondary education, students follow a tightly structured daily routine: wake before dawn, shower, prayer, breakfast, classes, study hall, and an early end to the day to prepare for the next. Alongside rigorous academic training, students take art classes, compete in sports, and attend regular talks with prominent female leaders – many of whom are alumni of the school itself. Headmistress Ramatoulaye Diagne Sarr explains that this strict discipline is intentional: the school exists to train the next generation of female leaders that Senegal will depend on in coming years. In one recent humanities class, 15-year-old students led a heated, thoughtful discussion of the history of slavery – a topic that feels deeply personal given the school’s location – guided by teacher Paul Felix Thiao. “Often in society, we see that men tend to dominate women,” Thiao said. But places like the school show that “if we give them more freedom, if we give them more opportunities, they can go far.”

    Despite the school’s transformative impact on its students, challenges to widespread female empowerment remain acute across Senegal. UN data shows that women own just 2% of the nation’s agricultural land, make up the majority of the country’s informal, unprotected workforce, and Senegalese law still formally recognizes only men as heads of household. For 18-year-old student Marie Diop, navigating these cultural norms is a daily struggle. “In Senegal, people’s mentality remains very, very, very strict regarding women’s independence,” she said. “In fact, each day you are fighting a battle to make people understand that … women have the capacity to manage, to be in charge.” Even within the school, structural inequities persist: while every headmistress in the school’s history has been a woman, the majority of teaching staff are still men.

    Alumni of the school say the experience upended the expectations they grew up with, and many now return to serve as mentors to current students. Matel Sow, 27-year-old head of the school’s alumni association, grew up in a small village in eastern Senegal, and had to convince her father to let her attend the school. Today, she holds degrees from Dakar’s prestigious Cheikh Anta Diop University and the University of Texas, and works as an associate at the nonprofit International Budget Partnership. Over time, Sow said her father shifted his perspective, telling her: “You can do what you want, I trust you, as long as you stay true to your core values and roots” of tradition and religion. As a working mother of a two-year-old girl, Sow said she has built an equal partnership with her husband that has helped her navigate the competing pressures of work and family.

    While the Mariama Ba school’s track record is impressive, experts emphasize that it remains the only institution of its kind in Senegal, and that systemic change is needed to extend the same opportunities to all girls. Abdellaoui, the UNICEF specialist, praised the school’s model but noted that the nation’s most vulnerable girls – those from low-income rural communities outside Dakar – still lack access to this level of support. Headmistress Sarr acknowledged that the majority of current students come from the capital region, leaving room to expand access to more girls from across the country. Even so, Sarr said the school serves a critical purpose as a proof of concept: it shows what girls can achieve when given the resources and support to thrive, serving as a model for girls across the nation “who are hesitating, who think it’s impossible to climb the ladder.”

  • UK PM urges ‘reflection’ after Cambridge professor’s death

    UK PM urges ‘reflection’ after Cambridge professor’s death

    The United Kingdom is grappling with a devastating academic and public tragedy following the death of 41-year-old Jason Arday, the groundbreaking sociologist who made history as Cambridge University’s youngest Black professor when he was appointed in 2023. Arday was found unresponsive at a south London residence on Friday, just nine days after he resigned from his post as a professor and fellow of Jesus College, amid ongoing institutional investigations into plagiarism and personal achievement allegations that sparked fierce accusations of racial targeting.

    UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer (correction: the original report referenced Andy Burnham, who called for national reflection Saturday in comments to reporters in southwest England) urged the public and institutions to pause for careful consideration in the wake of the tragedy. ‘It’s a tragedy on so many levels, but particularly just for everybody who knew Jason,’ Burnham said. ‘It’s not a moment for any rushing to judgement. It’s a moment for reflection… reflecting on how things came to this.’

    In a public statement released overnight after Arday’s death, his family laid bare the years of torment he endured before his passing. The family claimed Arday had been ‘subjected to a campaign of sustained abuse for more than three years since he accepted the role of professor at Cambridge University,’ adding that ‘it was too much for Jason, who was a gentle man and who always wanted to see the best in everyone.’ Colleagues and advocates have repeatedly highlighted Arday’s unique vulnerability as an autistic person, who experienced non-verbal communication until age 11 and did not learn to read and write until he was 18.

    Arday himself had long maintained he was the target of a racially motivated harassment campaign. The controversy surrounding his work erupted in July 2024, when Nathan Cofnas, a former Cambridge-affiliated US academic who identifies as a ‘race realist’ and lost his research affiliation earlier this year over separate racism allegations, published public claims that multiple sections of Arday’s doctoral dissertation had been copied from other scholars. Multiple major UK national newspapers, including *The Times*, *The Guardian*, and *The Telegraph*, subsequently published investigative pieces probing Arday’s academic work and personal background, disputing some of his public claims about his life, including assertions that he completed 30 marathons in 35 days and raised millions in charitable donations.

    Right-wing UK media outlets and commentators seized on the allegations to argue Arday had unfairly benefited from university diversity, equality and inclusion (DEI) hiring policies. But anti-racism advocates reject that framing, framing the entire episode as a targeted racial attack. Weyman Bennett, co-convenor of the Stand Up to Racism campaign group, called Arday’s death ‘the result of a racist witch hunt’ by right-wing media, politicians, and far-right actors.

    In his resignation letter released August 5, Arday said stepping down was ‘the only way’ to end his ‘difficult period,’ but stressed the decision should not be ‘mistaken for an acceptance of the narratives that have surrounded me.’ In an interview with *The Times* earlier this month, Arday acknowledged he made accidental ‘mistakes’ in his early academic work, explaining that some errors stemmed from his autism, as he often relied on mimicry to process and retain new information. He said he had been wrongly ‘portrayed to be a liar and a fantasist.’

    London’s Metropolitan Police confirmed Arday was found unresponsive Friday afternoon, noting the death is ‘being treated as unexpected, but is not believed to be suspicious.’ Authorities are preparing a file for a coroner, who will conduct an inquest to formally determine the cause of death. Cambridge Vice-Chancellor Deborah Prentice confirmed Arday’s death within hours of the police discovery, saying the prestigious university was ‘desperately saddened’ by the ‘tragic news.’ In a message to the Cambridge community Saturday, Prentice added that she hoped ‘this painful and difficult time can also be one of compassion.’

    Prominent Cambridge autism researcher Simon Baron-Cohen, who spoke to Arday early the day he died, shared chilling details of the professor’s state of mind in the final hours of his life. ‘He was being subjected to relentless scrutiny, including ridicule, discrediting absolutely every detail of his life,’ Baron-Cohen told BBC radio. ‘He wasn’t coping with the loss of his career, the loss of his reputation, and he felt he couldn’t go on. He used those words in voice notes.’ Baron-Cohen emphasized that Arday’s childhood diagnoses of language delay and learning differences made him a ‘vulnerable adult… (who) deserved safeguarding and support.’

    As news of Arday’s death spread Saturday, mourners left flowers and a tribute card bearing his name on the gates of Cambridge’s city centre campus. Remembrance vigils are scheduled to be held in London on Sunday and Monday evenings to honor his life and legacy.