In his 2024 inaugural address, University president Jonathan Levin ’94 expressed his desire to “open the reach of a Stanford education” and expand the undergraduate student body. Last month, Levin hung his hat on that inaugural promise: Stanford announced its largest first-year class, adding 173 additional students.

While a Stanford education may now be open to more students, those additional slots are not being filled by students of color. Even with an expanded class, Stanford enrolled fewer students of color than the year prior: about 75 fewer Black students and 35 fewer Hispanic students.

This isn’t a coincidence: in the absence of affirmative action, the effect of legacy and donor preference becomes extremely clear. 

That’s why universities across the country are turning the page. In the last decade, more than half of the 872 American colleges that used legacy preference in admissions discontinued the practice. Ninety-four colleges ended them in the two years following the fall of affirmative action in 2023.

We wonder why our University hasn’t joined them. 

As members of Students for Educational Equity, we agree with the 76% of Americans who oppose legacy admissions. And so, last year, we got to work. We engaged with the student community, met with state legislators and spent weekends at the Capitol speaking at press conferences and hearings.

Our efforts paid off: AB 1780, a bill to ban legacy admissions at universities that take state funding, passed both chambers, and California Gov. Gavin Newsom proudly signed it into law in September 2024. We had won. Or so we thought.

In July, Stanford announced it would continue legacy preferences in admissions. How?

Up until this year, the University accepted about $3 million in state funding for tuition assistance for low-income Californian students. Technically, Stanford could continue to take state money and keep doing legacy, but it would have been “named-and-shamed.”

Per the bill’s approach, the University would be publicly listed as a violator by the California Department of Justice. It would also be required to publish demographic information on its legacy admits, potentially demonstrating a racial or socioeconomic skew. So, Stanford just decided to forfeit state dollars, conveniently skirting the law.

What’s worse: we no longer have any idea how many legacy students Stanford admits. The law that required them to disclose this number expired last year. Stanford may have increased its legacy admits this year, but we don’t know.

Legacy is an incredibly powerful advantage as a Stanford applicant. Based on last year’s data, applicants with a parent who attended Stanford have a substantially higher chance of getting in. Stanford admitted the average applicant last year at a rate of 3.6%, while legacies made up 13.6% of the admitted class — nearly a 4x advantage. 

If data from Ivy Plus schools is any indication, Stanford legacies are wealthier than non-legacies. At elite schools, this is a trend that increases across the entire American income distribution. Legacies are four times as likely to come from the top 1% than the bottom 99%.

Furthermore, we believe that legacy preference at Stanford compounds an admissions process that already produces a significant socioeconomic imbalance. Legacy preference likely contributes to the underrepresentation of low- and middle-income people as well as people of color in our student body.

Students from the wealthiest 1% make up 17%, while those from the bottom 20% represent just 4%. According to Stanford’s announcement, students identifying as Hispanic make up just 12.4% of the new Class of 2029, while those identifying as Black make up just 5.8%. In last year’s class, legacy students outnumbered Black students 3-to-1.

While legacy alone can’t explain the persistent economic and racial disparities in Stanford’s student body, we think it may play a role in Americans’ rising mistrust of universities at large. Only 36% of Americans have confidence in higher education.

Understandably so: from the outside, America’s most elite institutions appear to mostly serve the privileged few. Legacy admissions are a mechanism of that exclusion. As Gov. Newsom said when he signed the bill, AB 1780 sought to make good on the American dream (well, he said Californian dream, but the point stands). Regarding legacy admissions, Newsom said that “everyone should be able to get ahead through merit, skill and hard work.”

Why is it that Stanford has gone out of its way to uphold a policy that is both highly exclusive and deeply unpopular?

Universities often justify legacy admissions as a fundraising mechanism. Stanford’s decision to maintain legacy and donor preference may reflect concerns about financial sustainability, especially given federal funding cuts and a higher institutional excise tax. But data suggests that eliminating legacy does not necessarily depress giving. Since ending legacy admissions in 2014, Johns Hopkins’ giving total has risen 75% over the past decade. Total giving at Stanford rose only 22% over the same period.

As Johns Hopkins president Ronald Daniels wrote at the time, ending legacy admissions is “necessary if American universities are truly to fulfill their democratic promise to be ladders of mobility for all.” Stanford has the opportunity to be that ladder. It must seize it.

Sebastian Andrews M.S. ’26 is a leader of Students for Educational Equity, a Stanford-based student organization seeking reforms to the ways elite universities admit and mold their students.