The views expressed in this article are entirely those of the undersigned authors and do not reflect the opinions of the committee as a whole.
Cornell loves to remind us that it’s New York’s land-grant university. It’s on plaques, websites and tour guides’ scripts. But here’s the uncomfortable truth: If Cornell doesn’t actively rethink what the land-grant mission means right now, that proud identity risks becoming a marketing slogan rather than a public promise. As we’ve argued in a previous column, Cornell’s identity as the only land-grant Ivy gives it a rare and powerful mandate. The harder question is whether we are organized to live up to it.
Our thesis is simple: Cornell is already doing remarkable land‑grant work, but it has not yet made public purpose an organizing principle of the University as a whole. In a moment when public trust in higher education nationwide is increasingly fragile, that distinction matters more than ever.
This tension isn’t new. Liberty Hyde Bailey, one of Cornell’s most influential land‑grant thinkers and the first dean of the New York State College of Agriculture (now the College of Agriculture and Life Sciences), argued that university research should serve the people through what he called a “plain, earnest and continuous effort to meet the needs” of local communities. Bailey rejected the idea of extension as mere outreach or dissemination, insisting instead on partnership: faculty learning alongside farmers and communities, not simply instructing them. That idea still sits at the heart of our public engagement mission. The question is whether Cornell’s modern structures reflect it.
Why does this matter now? The challenges facing New Yorkers in 2026 look nothing like those in 1865, when Cornell was founded. Climate change is already reshaping agriculture, infrastructure and public health. Rural hospitals and clinics are disappearing. Housing costs are squeezing families across the state. AI and automation are transforming work faster than policy can keep up. These aren’t abstract, academic debates — these are the day‑to‑day realities of the people Cornell exists to serve.
Let’s be clear: Cornell is doing meaningful work on all of these fronts. Researchers across the University are working directly with farmers, workers, families and local governments, while Cooperative Extension educators support youth mental health, nutrition and community development statewide. Faculty and students are already deeply engaged in tackling real‑world problems.
But this is where the under‑discussed problem comes in: These efforts can still feel optional, fragmented and siloed. Public engagement lives in certain colleges and programs rather than at the core of how Cornell defines excellence. Community‑engaged scholarship is often treated as an ‘extra,’ while the traditional metrics of publications, grants and rankings carry the institutional weight. That’s not just a missed opportunity. It’s a structural mismatch between Cornell’s public mission and how the University actually operates.
The counterintuitive fix: Make public purpose the default. If Cornell truly wants to lead as a 21st century land-grant university, the solution isn’t a new initiative or another strategic plan. It’s a shift in mindset: Public engagement should be the norm, not the exception.
First, Cornell needs to reward the kind of work for which land-grant universities were built. Many of today’s biggest challenges, including climate adaptation, food security, public health and ethical technology, don’t fit neatly into disciplinary boxes. They require long‑term partnerships, trust‑building and collaboration with communities. Rather than quietly discouraging it, promotion and tenure systems should consistently value that labor.
Second, every Cornell student should graduate with hands-on exposure to public purpose work. Community‑engaged courses, internships with state and local partners and project‑based learning tied to New York State’s pressing needs shouldn’t be niche opportunities. They should be the standard. Students don’t just gain skills from this work; they gain a sense that knowledge carries responsibility.
Third, Cornell should deepen its commitment to a strong, visible statewide presence. Cooperative Extension is one of the university’s most valuable and effective assets, with many programs delivering high‑quality, trusted support to communities across the state. The opportunity ahead is not to fix what is broken, but to build on what already works by ensuring extension is more fully integrated into campus research priorities, teaching and institutional leadership. Doing so would strengthen the bidirectional flow of knowledge between communities and the University, amplifying impact on both sides.
Finally, Cornell must lean into its unique role as the only land-grant Ivy League institution. Our advances in AI, biotechnology, robotics and environmental engineering carry enormous social consequences. In 2026, a land-grant university demands more than inventing new technologies. It means helping society decide how, and whether, to use those technologies. That requires public dialogue, ethical leadership and a sensitivity to those who realize technology’s benefits versus those bearing its risk.
Cornell already has the ingredients: world‑class researchers, committed educators and deep public partnerships. What it needs now is alignment and the courage to proclaim that public purpose is not optional. Moving forward will take participation from across the entire Cornell community. University leaders can continue to signal that public engagement and societal contribution are central measures of excellence. Faculty can help shape reward systems that recognize work with real‑world impact alongside more traditional scholarly achievements. Staff can continue to play a key role in implementing initiatives and acting as a bridge between local communities and the University. Students can seek out learning experiences that connect their education to communities and challenges beyond campus. And alumni and policymakers can help support and sustain Cornell’s public mission.
If Cornell places public purpose more intentionally at the center of who we are, we don’t merely honor our legacy, we extend it. That was the essence of Liberty Hyde Bailey’s vision: a university defined not only by what it knows, but by how it serves. And as expectations for higher education intensify, that choice may be one of the most meaningful contributions a university can make.
Ariel Avgar PhD ’08 is a Co-Chair of the Committee on the Future of the American University and David M. Cohen Professor of Labor Relations. He can be reached at aca27@cornell.edu.
Anthony Burrow is a member of the Committee on the Future of the American University, Ferris Family Associate Professor of Life Course Studies, Director of the Bronfenbrenner Center for Translational Research, and Senior Associate Dean for Outreach and Extension in Cornell Human Ecology. He can be reached at alb325@cornell.edu.
Rick Geddes is a member of the Committee on the Future of the American University and a professor in the Jeb E. Brooks School of Public Policy. He can be reached at rrg24@cornell.edu.
David Rand ’04 is a member of the Committee on the Future of the American University, and Professor of Information Science and Marketing and Management Communications. He can be reached at dgr7@cornell.edu.
Jocelyn Rose is a member of the Committee on the Future of the American University, and Barbara McClintock Professor and Director of the School of Integrative Plant Science. He can be reached at jr286@cornell.edu.
The Committee on the Future of the American University is a group of 18 faculty appointed by the provost to explore how the University can evolve to best serve future generations while pursuing its core mission of education, scholarship, public impact and community engagement. They welcome ideas and feedback at fau@cornell.edu.








