Affording Independence: The Moral Tradeoff Between Access and Autonomy

Independence has always been our calling card, not just structurally, but philosophically. Pat Bassett, former NAIS President, defined our independence as four freedoms: the freedom to shape our mission, the freedom to regulate admissions, the freedom to set teacher credentials, and the freedom to teach what educators decide is important. We choose our own paths, build our own programs, and serve families through missions we believe in. But independence is never free. Affordability is our constant challenge, and pricing is the battleground where it plays out.

Two discrete disruptors are simultaneously reshaping the business model of independent schools: vouchers and artificial intelligence. At first, they seem to live in separate worlds, policy and technology, but they share a common thread. Both have the power to alter how our schools operate, what families value, and how much control we truly have over our own future. Both ask us to confront a profound moral tradeoff between access and autonomy.

The Politics of Pricing

In several states, and perhaps soon at the federal level, government money is flowing directly into private tuition at scale. On the surface, that sounds like good news. Families who never dreamed of affording an independent school can now consider it. Enrollment grows, access expands, and doors open. But beneath that surface, something subtle might be about to happen. When government funding enters an ecosystem built on independence, the drivers of price begin to change.

In a normal market, supply and demand determine price. But introduce subsidies, and the equation shifts. Subsidies don’t just make things cheaper; they change what gets produced, how it’s delivered, and who holds the power.

Consider the for-profit world. In agriculture, federal subsidies keep farms alive, but they also dictate what gets planted. We have endless rows of corn not because families are clamoring for more cornflakes, but because policy made corn profitable. Independence was traded for predictability. In energy, the rise and fall of solar, wind, and coal often depend less on technology and more on politics. Industries thrive or falter not because of innovation, but because of election cycles. In aviation, small-town airports survive through government support. Airlines that accept those subsidies must fly routes they’d never otherwise choose. Automotive companies have learned that incentives drive the market as much as design. Electric vehicles were once propelled by tax credits, and when those policies shifted, so did demand. Each of these industries teaches the same lesson: when government funding enters the market, politics enters with it. Subsidies are never just about affordability; they are about influence.

Large, well-resourced schools may be able to afford to refuse voucher money and protect their autonomy. Extremely under-resourced schools, usually highly specialized in mission, such as those serving students with learning differences, might be able to maintain independence because their focus makes them essential. The broad middle of schools, those clustered under the center of the normal curve, face the hardest choices. They are too large to operate on a shoestring and might be too small to absorb the cost of refusing vouchers. Not accepting vouchers is becoming a competitive disadvantage. The marketplace is beginning to punish independence.

So we must ask: how much autonomy are we willing to trade for access? And once we make that trade, can we ever get it back?

The Uneven Pressure on Schools

The affordability crisis does not affect all schools equally. Our well-resourced schools can usually self-fund independence and protect their mission. The under-resourced, niche schools preserve independence through specialization. The remaining schools, which are by far the majority, live in the tension between financial necessity and philosophical integrity.

This tension is compounded by what’s happening in public education. COVID taught us a valuable lesson: independent school enrollment thrives when public schools struggle, and it softens when public schools are “good enough.” Now, as federal support for public education retracts and voucher programs expand, we’re seeing a redistribution of educational dollars in America. This is not a minor adjustment; it is a seismic shift. And the mid-sized schools, the heart of the independent school ecosystem, are the most exposed.

AI: The Disruptor of Cost and Perceived Value

While vouchers are reshaping the politics of pricing, artificial intelligence is transforming the economics of cost and the perception of value. Independent schools have long marketed that our greatest differentiator is the human relationship between students and teachers in our schools, a point that I think is unassailable. However, we have posited over and over that this relationship is only possible with small classes, low ratios, and individualized attention. We have taught families to believe that value is measured by proximity to teachers. But what happens when AI begins to deliver aspects of personalization, feedback, and engagement that once required more adults in the room?

For decades, we’ve told families that lower ratios equal higher value. AI complicates that story. If a school could maintain or even improve learning outcomes with slightly higher ratios and lower costs, would that make it less independent or would it make it more sustainable?

This is our next moral tradeoff. Vouchers tempt us with access; AI tempts us with efficiency. Both promise solutions, but both can quietly erode what makes us unique if we are not intentional.

The history of several industries can offer a warning. Energy companies that resisted renewables found themselves behind the curve. Car manufacturers that laughed at electric vehicles might now be playing catch-up. Kodak clung to film and missed digital photography entirely. Resisting change can feel like loyalty to tradition, but too often it becomes the first step toward irrelevance. The challenge is not to resist AI, but to master it. AI can help us reduce costs, personalize learning, and extend access. Independence, in this new context, is not about refusing technology but rather it is about deciding how to use it to advance our values.

Independent schools are simultaneously negotiating financial and philosophical independence. Vouchers challenge our political autonomy, while AI challenges our professional identity. Each represents a moral tradeoff that demands discernment, courage, and clarity of purpose.

What will define us in this moment is not whether we resist or embrace these forces, but how we choose to engage them. The heart of independence has always been the freedom to think critically, to innovate intentionally, and to act with integrity. That freedom is not threatened by change; it is sharpened by it.