The Brief

Until a few nights ago, the only thing I knew about Laguna Beach's Pageant of the Masters show was the hilarious spoof the cult sitcom Arrested Development had done that made the 91-year-old tradition look absolutely ridiculous.

Arrested Development is by far my favorite and, imo, most accurate picture of Orange County in popular media – so I went into attending my very first Pageant this week with a bit of a bias. But now that I've seen the real deal, I can say it is indeed one of the most bizarre, but also, most incredible and intricate spectacles I've ever witnessed.

I'm only half an hour away from Laguna Beach, but for the last eight years I've lived in O.C., I just couldn't get excited about the idea of watching volunteer actors hold their breath, and their pose, for more than a minute while trying to recreate old famous paintings. That was, I thought, the essence of the Pageant of the Masters.

But this year, the theme intrigued me: fashion trends through the ages. (A friend later pointed out that the show is kinda always about fashion. It's not like they're going to choose boring, ugly paintings to recreate.)

I recruited a few friends, found some cheap tickets, and pitched a story to my editors.

Actors recreate Jean-Honoré Fragonard's painting The Swing (1767) at Pageant of the Masters in 2024.

(

Courtesy of Pageant of the Masters

)

Is that a real person?

It took about two seconds after the show started for me to realize it's much more than a tableau vivant, or living picture where actors pose to recreate a static scene. Pageant of the Masters is a full-on multimedia extravaganza, with projections, skits, and a live orchestra.

There is narration throughout, which gives history and context to the scenes, along with occasional corny quips.

When life-sized portraits appeared onstage of long-dead British monarchs, I couldn't tell whether I was looking at actual people or not. But then, they must be real people, I thought, because that's the whole point of this thing!

I spent the next 15 minutes or so obsessed with trying to catch one of the actors blinking, or moving a muscle. I never did.

I started to realize I was missing the whole show when producers 'pulled back the curtain,' so to speak, to demonstrate what they do to make the paintings on stage look so real.

Actors walk up into a three-dimensional background, which is surrounded by a frame that makes it look like the picture is floating above the stage floor. Curtains allow the stagehands to adjust the size of the frame to fit whatever painting they're recreating. The backdrops are intricate replicas of the original works, with missing spaces where real people and props stand in.

An actor in Pageant of the Masters poses as a jeweled brooch from 1900 by Gaston Lafitte.

(

Courtesy of Pageant of the Masters

)

And the actors — nearly 500 volunteers help put on the show — were amazingly still, even in the most uncomfortable looking positions. I later read in the program that they have props that help them hold a pose, like a seat belt for the pink-gowned woman soaring through the air in the recreation of Jean-Honoré Fragonard's The Swing.
The humans posing as famous statues were similarly impeccable — if I didn't know, I would've thought they were just well-painted paper mache replicas, positioned there to enhance the overall theme of the show.

Pay up or bring your binoculars

It's possible those sitting closer to the stage can spot the difference between actor and prop or painted backdrop. I was in the cheap seats. And when I realized people around me had binoculars, I felt like a total noob.

So at intermission, I rented some. But honestly, I still couldn't identify the living, breathing humans on stage! After the show, I mused with a couple of women sitting near me that maybe you need to see the Pageant several times for your eyes to adjust to the surrealness of it all.

Applying makeup backstage at Pageant of the Masters in 2024.

(

Courtesy of Ron Azevedo/Pageant of the Masters

)

After looking at photos of the backstage prep and rehearsals, I realized that a major trick is in the makeup. The soft lines, unnatural colors and painted-on shadows turn the actors into doppelgängers of their brush-stroked models.

The weird fake hair — which, in closeups, looks like plastic Lego hair — is also key for certain recreations.

Actors recreate the illuminated manuscript entitled Royal Parisian Wedding, author unknown, at Pageant of the Masters in 2024.

(

Courtesy of Pageant of the Masters

)

It's all magic

I started to really enjoy the show, rather than just gawk, when I gave up on scrutinizing the details and declared the whole thing magic.

The show’s tribute to Edith Head, the eight-time Academy Award-winning costume designer, confirmed my conclusion. As we watched life-sized replicas of Alfred Hitchcock movie posters, and actors recreating a scene from The Birds, the narrator invoked this quote from Head:

(inline quote) "What a costume designer does is a cross between magic and camouflage. We create the illusion of changing the actors into what they are not."

If for nothing else, I'd go see the Pageant again because of the gorgeous setting. The amphitheater where it takes place, on the grounds of the Laguna Beach Festival of Arts, is like a smaller, more intimate Hollywood Bowl — without the light pollution.

When my eyes needed a break from staring at a scene, I looked up at the stars. Later, the waning moon peaked up above Laguna Canyon, just late enough not to upstage the show.

On the morning of July 31, James B. Milliken was enjoying a round of golf at the remote Sand Hills club in Western Nebraska when his cellphone buzzed.

Milliken was still days away from taking the helm of the sprawling University of California system, but his new office was on the line with disturbing news: The Trump administration was freezing hundreds of millions of dollars of research funding at the University of California, Los Angeles, UC’s biggest campus. Milliken quickly packed up and made the five-hour drive to Denver to catch the next flight to California.

He landed on the front lines of one of the most confounding cultural battles waged by the Trump administration.

The grant freeze was the latest salvo in the administration’s broader campaign against elite universities, which it has pilloried as purveyors of antisemitism and “woke” indoctrination. Over the next four months, the Justice Department targeted UCLA with its full playbook for bringing colleges to heel, threatening it with multiple discrimination lawsuits, demanding more than $1 billion in fines and pressing for a raft of changes on the conservative wish list for overhauling higher education.

In the months since Milliken’s aborted golf game, much has been written about the Trump administration’s efforts to impose its will on UCLA, part of the nation’s largest and most prestigious public university system. But an investigation by ProPublica and The Chronicle of Higher Education, based on previously unreported documents and interviews with dozens of people involved, reveals the extent to which the government violated legal and procedural norms to gin up its case against the school. It also surfaced something equally alarming: How the UC system’s deep dependence on federal money inhibited its willingness to resist the legally shaky onslaught, a vulnerability the Trump administration’s tactics brought into sharp focus.

According to former DOJ insiders, agency political appointees dispatched teams of career civil rights lawyers to California in March, pressuring them to rapidly “find” evidence backing a preordained conclusion: that the UC system and four of its campuses had illegally tolerated antisemitism, which would violate federal civil rights statutes.

The career attorneys eventually recommended a lawsuit against only UCLA, which had been rocked by pro-Palestinian protests in the spring of 2024. But even that case was weak, the lawyers acknowledged in a previously unreported internal memo we obtained. It documented the extensive steps UCLA had already taken to address antisemitism, many resulting from a Biden administration investigation based on the same incidents. The memo also noted there was no evidence that the harassing behavior that peaked during the protests was still happening.

Nonetheless, investigators sketched out a convoluted legal strategy to justify a new civil rights complaint against UCLA that several former DOJ lawyers called problematic and ethically dubious. Multiple attorneys who worked on it told us they were relieved they’d left the DOJ before they could be asked to sign it.

UCLA seemingly had every reason to push back aggressively. Yet UC system leaders have resisted calls from faculty and labor groups to file suit, fearing the many ways the government could retaliate against not only UCLA, but the entire university system, which relies on federal funds for a full one-third of its revenue. The government has opened probes into all 10 UC campuses, including at least seven that target UC Berkeley alone. “Thankfully, they’ve only f**ked with UCLA at this point,” said one UC insider privy to the system’s thinking.

To tell this story, ProPublica and the Chronicle reviewed public and internal records and interviewed more than 50 people, including DOJ attorneys who worked on the California investigations, UC officials and faculty, former government officials, Jewish leaders and legal experts. Some asked not to be identified, for fear the administration would retaliate or because they hadn’t been authorized to discuss the conflict. The Justice Department and its top officials did not respond to detailed questions and interview requests.

James B. Milliken, a savvy academic administrator, stepped into the challenge of his career in taking over as president of the University of California system.

(

Elena Zhukova

/

University of California

)

Over three decades leading public colleges, Milliken, 68, a dapper onetime Wall Street lawyer who goes by “JB,” has built a reputation as a pragmatist able to work with politicians of all stripes and navigate the culture wars. In an interview, he called the challenges facing the entirety of UC, and UCLA in particular, unparalleled in his career. “There’s nothing like this time,” he said. “This is singular. It’s the toughest.”

On Nov. 14, UC received a temporary reprieve. In response to a complaint brought by the American Association of University Professors, U.S. District Judge Rita F. Lin issued a scathing opinion finding that the Trump administration’s actions against UCLA had “flouted” legal requirements and ordered it to cease all “coercive and retaliatory conduct” against the UC system. Lin had already ordered the release of UCLA’s $584 million in frozen grant funding.

But those orders are preliminary and subject to appeal, and many people at UC fear that more attacks are coming. “Even if this holds, there will simply be another move from this administration,” said Anna Markowitz, an associate professor of education at UCLA and a leader of the campus faculty association, which is among the lawsuit’s plaintiffs. “They have not made it a secret what they wish to do.”

In interviews, UCLA researchers described the damage the school has absorbed so far. Even Jewish faculty members who endured antisemitism said they are aghast at the way the government has weaponized their complaints to justify cutting critical scientific research.

One of them is Ron Avi Astor, a professor of social welfare and education whose description of his treatment at the hands of pro-Palestinian protesters is a prominent part of the lawsuit President Donald Trump’s DOJ recommended against UCLA. But he is dismayed at the cuts to research funds. “These are things that save people’s lives. Why are we messing with that? It’s a tool that anyone who’s a scholar would abhor,” he told us. “It looks like we’re being used.”

For Trump’s Justice Department, the University of California was a juicy target from the start.

With its 10 campuses, nearly 300,000 students, six medical centers and three national labs, UC is a crown jewel of a blue state — one whose governor, Gavin Newsom, has become one of Trump’s most prominent foes.

Its scientists have won 75 Nobel Prizes, including four this year alone. But as a high-powered science hub, it’s deeply dependent on federal funding, getting some $17.3 billion a year in research grants, student financial aid and reimbursements from government health programs. UC also has nothing like the endowment wealth of the Ivy League colleges, including Columbia and Brown, from which the Trump administration has extracted penalties in the tens or hundreds of millions.

Some of Trump’s DOJ appointees arrived with UC already in their crosshairs. Harmeet K. Dhillon, Trump’s assistant attorney general for civil rights, had sued UC officials in 2017 on behalf of two conservative student groups, alleging unfair treatment of conservative speakers they wanted to bring to the Berkeley campus. (UC settled the case a year later, agreeing to modify rules for speakers at Berkeley and pay $70,000 in legal costs.) And Trump had named Leo Terrell, the bombastic former Fox News commentator, to a top DOJ civil rights post where he heads the president’s Task Force to Combat Anti-Semitism. A UCLA School of Law graduate, Terrell had publicly declared in mid-2024 that his alma mater was “a national embarrassment” over its handling of “criminal antisemitic conduct.” Dhillon and Terrell didn’t respond to requests for comment.

In early February, just two weeks after Trump took office, his new attorney general, Pam Bondi, issued a series of directives to the DOJ requiring “zealous advocacy” for Trump’s executive orders, attacks on all forms of “illegal DEI” and aggressive steps to combat antisemitism. Civil rights actions and investigations involving race and sex discrimination, historically the civil rights division’s chief focus, were largely abandoned.

On Feb. 28, Terrell’s task force announced plans to visit 10 U.S. campuses, including UCLA and UC Berkeley, that were alleged to have illegally failed to protect Jewish students and faculty members, to assess “whether remedial action is warranted.”

But by then, the new Justice leadership had already decided to investigate UC schools and already concluded that they were guilty.

In early March, Terrell declared on Fox News that students and employees in “the entire UC system” were “being harassed because of antisemitism.” The administration planned to “sue,” “bankrupt,” and “take away every single federal dollar” from such schools, he said, and the DOJ would file hate crime charges.

A team of about a dozen career DOJ lawyers had been assembled only days earlier to investigate the allegations of antisemitism against UC employees. Under the employment discrimination section of the Civil Rights Act, the occurrence of ugly antisemitic incidents or violence involving professors or staff wasn’t, by itself, enough to merit federal intervention. The legal standard was whether the university had engaged in a “pattern or practice” of tolerating antisemitism.

Before Trump took office, the civil rights division typically took more than a year to complete such a probe, according to DOJ veterans. Investigators would conduct interviews on campus, review reams of documents for compliance with various statutes and assess such complex matters as when hateful speech is protected by the First Amendment. Once a complaint was authorized, the civil rights division would seek voluntary compliance in a process that was meant to find solutions, not punish colleges.

In this case, the Justice Department’s political appointees demanded that investigators wrap things up in far less time — initially, a single month.

Career supervisors say they told their new bosses that they couldn’t, in one month, produce a case that could stand up in court. Still, “North” and “South” teams of lawyers were dispatched for multiday trips to California to dig up facts and interview officials at UC Berkeley, UC Davis, UC San Francisco and UCLA.

“We were told what the outcome will be: ‘You have one month to find evidence to justify a lawsuit and draft a complaint against the UC system,’” said Ejaz Baluch, a senior trial attorney in the civil rights division who worked on the investigation before leaving the Justice Department in May.

“The incredibly short timing of this investigation is just emblematic of the fact that the end goal was never to conduct a thorough, unbiased investigation,” Jen Swedish, who was the deputy chief of Justice’s employment litigation section until May, said in an interview. “The end goal was to file a damn complaint — or have something to threaten the university.”

Trump’s appointee as deputy assistant attorney general for civil rights was Michael Gates, formerly the city attorney in Huntington Beach, California, who assumed the DOJ post vowing to help “win this country back.” “You guys have found a hostile work environment, right?” lawyers on the UC team recall him asking, just three weeks into the investigation.

DOJ investigators said Michael Gates, then deputy assistant attorney general for civil rights, asked them, “You guys have found a hostile work environment, right?” just three weeks into their probe of UC.

(

Paul Bersebach/MediaNews Group

/

Orange County Register via Getty Images

)

“He seemed upset we were spending so much time investigating,” Dena Robinson, a senior trial attorney, told us. “He didn’t know what the holdup was in getting back to them on which university could be sued.” In an email about six weeks in, Gates suggested there was easily enough in the public record to bring a complaint against at least one of the UC campuses — a notion that horrified the career lawyers. “Why did we even go out there if you’d already made up your mind?” another member of the UC team recalled thinking. Gates, who left the DOJ in November after just 11 months, declined an interview request and offered no comment on detailed questions from ProPublica and the Chronicle.

Lawyers on the team say it soon became apparent that there wasn’t nearly enough evidence to justify an employment discrimination case against UC Davis, UC Berkeley or UCSF, much less the entire UC system. Fearful for their jobs, they agreed on a strategy to “feed the beast,” as one attorney put it: to focus on UCLA, which had experienced the most troubling, and publicly explosive, episodes of antisemitism.

Like many colleges across the country, UCLA had seen a spike in antisemitism amid protests over Israel’s military response in Gaza following the brutal Hamas attack of Oct. 7, 2023.

The campus had experienced dozens of ugly incidents, including swastikas spray-painted on buildings and graffiti reading “Free Palestine, F**k Jews.” Muslim and Arab students and faculty also complained of harassment and that any speech critical of Israel was being branded as antisemitic.

Starting in late April 2024, hundreds of pro-Palestinian protesters set up a barricaded encampment in the center of the campus. Reluctant to summon outside law enforcement, UCLA administrators allowed the encampment to remain for a week, disrupting classes and blocking access to certain buildings. Protesters berated and occasionally physically assaulted anyone who refused to disavow Zionism.

On the night of April 30, masked counterprotesters, armed with poles and pepper spray and shooting fireworks, stormed the encampment, triggering a three-hour melee before police were finally brought in. Dozens of people were injured. It took until 6 a.m. May 2 for Los Angeles police and sheriff’s deputies to empty the site.

Before Trump even took office, however, UCLA — and the federal government — had already taken action to combat antisemitism at the school.

Most significantly, in the waning days of the Biden administration, the UC system had reached a broad civil rights settlement with the Department of Education resolving investigations into student complaints that UC had tolerated both antisemitism and anti-Arab and anti-Muslim discrimination at UCLA and on four other campuses.

The settlement required UC to conduct more thorough investigations of alleged harassment and to submit reports on each campus’ handling of discrimination complaints. Government monitoring was to continue until UC “demonstrated compliance” with “all the terms of this agreement.”

Hundreds of pro-Palestinian protesters maintained a barricaded encampment in the center of the UCLA campus for a week in spring 2024, until a violent melee with counterprotesters finally prompted administrators to send in law enforcement to clear the site.

(

Xinhua

/

Getty Images

)

The Trump administration disregarded all that. Even as the employee investigation was underway, it launched a new investigation of the same student complaints in early May.

On May 27 on Fox News, Terrell, the head of the antisemitism task force, once again spoke publicly as if the DOJ’s antisemitism inquiries had already been concluded. “Expect massive lawsuits against the UC system,” he declared. “Expect hate crime charges filed by the federal government. …We are going to go after them where it hurts them financially.”

At the time, the lawyers working on the UC employment investigation were still racing to complete their recommendation. They were focused solely on UCLA, having determined there wasn’t adequate evidence to pursue cases at other campuses. Many had distinctly mixed feelings even about bringing that case. “This was not something we would usually litigate,” one lawyer on the team said in an interview. “But everyone understood the front office was demanding this.”

By then, most of the remaining members of the UC team, amid a mass exodus from the civil rights division, were set to leave DOJ at the end of May after accepting the Trump administration’s deferred-resignation offer. “It was comforting to know we were not going to be the ones signing any complaint,” the lawyer said.

In the 47-page recommendation memo the UC team sent on May 29 to Dhillon, the assistant AG for civil rights, the lawyers spelled out their concerns. “We simply do not have strong evidence that the types of harassing acts that happened through spring 2024 are ongoing” — typically a legal requirement for bringing a complaint, the memo acknowledged. Some of the harassment complaints also involved protected First Amendment speech. And because, “as has been frequently noted,” the investigation had been “truncated” to three months, there hadn’t even been time to review some of the documents UC produced, the memo said.

To shore up potential weaknesses in the case, the memo suggested an unusual “hybrid complaint” strategy that would rest partly on new allegations about the ineffectiveness of the university’s complaint process (which was ongoing) and partly on three older faculty grievances.

One of the grievances cited was that of Astor, the professor of social welfare, who describes himself as both a Zionist and a “pro-peace researcher.” His academic work, much of which takes place in Israel, involves studying ways to help students from different religious and ethnic backgrounds peacefully coexist. But after he signed an open letter from Jewish faculty criticizing some pro-Palestinian protesters’ calls for violence, they accused him, in a widely circulated letter of their own, of supporting genocide. When he tried to enter the encampment to talk to students, he told us, a masked protester asked whether he was a Zionist. After he said he believed in Israel’s right to exist, he was blocked from entering or crossing through the central campus.

Astor was targeted again last November, he said, when he and an Arab-Israeli researcher he’d flown in from Hebrew University of Jerusalem tried to discuss their research on preventing school violence in class. “A bunch of students got up and showed pictures of dead babies and chanted and didn’t let us talk,” he recalled. Later heckled on his way to his car, he said he felt threatened and depressed. He lost more than 60 pounds and was granted permission to work from home, but his repeated discrimination complaints to administrators went nowhere.

Astor’s complaints, the employment-section attorneys believed, would support their proposal for a lawsuit against UCLA. Even so, they warned that their case might not hold up in court. In the memo, they recommended seeking a settlement before filing a complaint.

With that message delivered, most of the lawyers who had investigated the University of California departed the Justice Department.

UCLA’s normally peaceful campus was roiled by dozens of ugly — and occasionally violent — incidents in the aftermath of Israel’s response to the brutal Oct. 7 Hamas attack.

(

Myung J. Chun

/

Los Angeles Times via Getty Images

)

On the morning of July 29, two days before Milliken’s interrupted golf game, the University of California resolved what it surely hoped was among the last of the headaches from the 2024 encampment debacle: It announced a $6.45 million settlement of an antisemitism lawsuit brought by three Jewish students and a faculty member who said protesters blocked them from accessing the library and other campus buildings, creating a “Jew exclusion zone,” and that the university did nothing to help them. UC agreed to an extensive list of new actions, and a chunk of the money went to eight organizations that combat antisemitism and support the UCLA Jewish community. The steps the university had taken, a joint statement declared, “demonstrate real progress in the fight against antisemitism.”

The Trump administration had a different view. That afternoon, it announced that it had sent UC a notice letter saying the Justice Department had found UCLA’s response to the encampment had been “deliberately indifferent to a hostile environment for Jewish and Israeli students,” in violation of Title VI of the Civil Rights Act. Bondi warned in a press release that UCLA would “pay a heavy price” for “this disgusting breach of civil rights.” The antisemitism finding had been reached less than three months after the investigation had begun.

The letter, which acknowledged that it relied significantly on “publicly available reports and information,” ignored all the previous actions meant to put the events of 2024 to rest.

“The violations they described all predate the December agreement,” said Catherine E. Lhamon, who oversaw the Office of Civil Rights at the Education Department under the Obama and Biden administrations. “They’ve made no showing for why the agreement was defective or why anything else was needed to ensure compliance going forward.”

The July 29 letter ended with an invitation to negotiate a settlement but warned that the department was prepared to file a lawsuit if there was no “reasonable certainty” of reaching an agreement.

Instead, the next day, the Trump administration began freezing UCLA’s research money from the National Institutes of Health, National Science Foundation and Defense Department. The agencies cited the campus’ handling of antisemitism as well as “illegal affirmative action” and allowing transgender women in women’s sports and bathrooms.

UCLA was one of at least nine universities to be hit with grant suspensions, but the first public institution.

UCLA neuroscience researcher Elle Rathbun was stunned to learn that the Trump administration was freezing her hard-won $160,000 grant to study how brains recover from stroke.

(

Courtesy Elle Rathbun

)

David Shackelford, whose medical school lab develops personalized treatments for lung cancer, said his phone “blew up” when colleagues began receiving stop-spending orders. Three NIH grants, totaling $8 million over five years, had supported the lab’s work. “These are experiments and animal models that take years to develop,” Shackelford said. “It’s not like you can go to your computer and click save and walk away.” He scrounged together stopgap university funding and outside donations to keep the operation running “on fumes,” vowing “to go down swinging.”

Elle Rathbun is not sure she’s up for the fight. A 29-year-old sixth-year doctoral student in neuroscience, Rathbun was halfway through a three-year NIH grant to study how brains recover from strokes when she got the news: Her $160,000 award was on the long list of suspended UCLA grants.

She found substitute funding for some of her work but now has doubts about whether a career in academic science is worth the stress. Like hundreds of her colleagues, she’d gone through a monthslong competitive process to win the grant, only to have the Trump administration halt the taxpayer-funded research midstream, a move she called “incredibly disappointing and wildly wasteful.”

A group of UCLA researchers filed a lawsuit seeking to reverse the cuts and won two court orders largely restoring them. But even after those victories, the flow of new science grants had slowed to a trickle. In a July 30 email later introduced in court, the National Science Foundation’s acting chief science officer wrote that, in addition to freezing existing grants, he had been ordered to not make any further awards to UCLA.

In nearly 500 pages of personal statements to the court, some faculty members said they’re censoring their speech and changing their courses to avoid topics that might trigger even more cuts to the university. Amander Clark, a professor who heads a reproductive sciences center, no longer talks about the ways her research on infertility and the effects of hormones on human bodies could help gay and transgender people. “I am afraid that because UC is in the spotlight, 20 years of work could be dismantled at the stroke of a pen,” she wrote.

In selecting Milliken as their new system president, the UC regents had picked a veteran at managing large public university systems with vastly different political climates, ranging from the City University of New York, which he ran from 2014 to early 2018, to the University of Texas system, which he led from late 2018 until May 2025.

At UT, Milliken had championed some progressive steps, including expanding free tuition and safeguarding tenure, but he had also quickly shut down the system’s 21 offices related to diversity, equity and inclusion in response to a new Texas law. “He knows what is a winning hand and what is not,” said Richard Benson, who worked with Milliken as president of UT Dallas.

On Aug. 1, his first day on the job at UC’s system office in Oakland, Milliken issued a measured public statement that addressed the “deeply troubling” UCLA grant cuts and affirmed the critical importance of UC’s “life-saving and life-changing research.”

That same week, the Justice Department, days after Bondi’s declaration blasting UCLA for antisemitism against students, delivered a second notice letter, declaring that UCLA had illegally tolerated antisemitism against its employees and threatening to bring the “hybrid” lawsuit that the DOJ’s UC team had recommended in May.

Eager to turn up the pressure on UC, political appointees at the Justice Department had planned to issue another press release assailing UCLA for the employee-related antisemitism findings, according to former agency officials. But Kacie Candela, a well-regarded employment-section lawyer and the last survivor from the dozen who had worked on the administration’s UC investigations, warned that under federal law, it would be a criminal misdemeanor to publicly disclose details involving Equal Employment Opportunity Commission charges before filing a lawsuit. After a heated dispute, her argument prevailed and the UCLA letter went unannounced. She was terminated days later. (Candela, who is pursuing legal action to challenge her firing, declined to discuss the matter for this story. DOJ officials didn’t respond to questions from ProPublica and the Chronicle about the episode.)

After receiving the two DOJ antisemitism notice letters, Milliken quickly affirmed UC’s willingness to “engage in dialogue” with the administration. But that did nothing to forestall the next blow two days later: the Justice Department’s $1.2 billion settlement demand, which also asked for policy changes in areas where there’d been no findings of wrongdoing, including admissions practices, screening of foreign students and transgender students’ access to bathrooms. Within hours of UC’s receipt of the 27-page demand letter on Aug. 8 — which the DOJ had marked “confidential” — CNN, The New York Times and Politico had all posted stories saying they’d obtained a copy from undisclosed sources. (A DOJ spokesperson declined to comment on whether the administration had leaked the letter, which UC spent weeks battling in court to keep private.)

All this was without precedent, due process or clear legal justification, civil rights experts noted. Agreeing to the DOJ’s demands, the Aug. 8 letter said, would release UC from claims that it had violated laws banning discrimination against students, employees and women, and that its civil rights violations constituted fraud. “They were trying to overwhelm,” said Swedish, the former civil rights deputy section chief. “They were spraying the fire hose at the university.”

UC administrators faced intense pressure to respond to the Trump administration’s attacks on UCLA by filing suit. But they were wary that an aggressive response might prompt fresh retaliation against the system’s nine other campuses, which are all also under investigation.

(

Juliana Yamada

/

Los Angeles Times via Getty Images

)

Strangely, Justice demanded another $172 million for employees who’d complained of antisemitism discrimination, even though only a handful had filed such grievances with the EEOC and such awards are capped at $300,000.

Former U.S. Attorney Zachary A. Cunha said a possible rationale for such unprecedented financial demands is that, under Trump, the DOJ is experimenting with using the False Claims Act in civil rights cases. This would permit triple damages and encourage complaints from whistleblowers, who would share in any financial recovery. “It’s hard to know where these large and somewhat arbitrary numbers are coming from,” Cunha said of the administration’s settlement demands. But “if there’s a pattern that’s emerged thus far, it’s that every tool in the toolbox is on the table.”

Kenneth L. Marcus, an antisemitism watchdog and a former assistant secretary of education for civil rights under Trump, acknowledged that the government has pursued “eye-catching” penalties “with a speed that suggested” normal civil rights enforcement and due-process procedures “have not been utilized.” But Marcus insisted the response was appropriate because of the “national crisis” of antisemitism. “When a situation is extraordinary and unprecedented,” he said, “the response needs to be as well.”

In media interviews, officials in the Trump administration acknowledge that its “whole-of-government” attacks on universities seek to bypass normal, slow-moving civil rights procedures by instead treating alleged discriminatory practices as contract disputes where the government is free to summarily cut off funding and demand headline-grabbing, seemingly arbitrary fines. “Having that dollar figure, it actually brings attention to the deals in ways people might not otherwise pay attention,” former White House deputy May Mailman, a key architect of the administration’s higher education strategy, told The New York Times.

This approach is “flagrantly unlawful” and “incredibly dangerous,” said Lhamon, the former assistant education secretary, who is now executive director of the Edley Center on Law and Democracy at the UC Berkeley law school. “There’s a long set of steps that are written into statute that must occur first before funds can be terminated.”

Lhamon said the Trump administration was operating “like a mob boss.”

“That is not the federal government doing civil rights work,” she said.

Milliken has found himself caught between the Trump administration’s demands and those of his new constituency in California, which vocally opposes any hint of capitulation.

Newsom, who serves on the UC Board of Regents, has threatened to sue the federal government, calling its demands “extortion” and vowing to “fight like hell” against any deal.

The advocates of direct legal combat include Erwin Chemerinsky, dean of UC Berkeley’s law school. “The university should have immediately gone to court to challenge this because what was done was so blatantly illegal and unconstitutional,” he told ProPublica and the Chronicle. “I wanted the University of California to be Harvard in fighting back and filing suit. I didn’t want them to be Columbia and Brown in capitulating.”

But Milliken, backed by the UC regents, resisted calls for confrontation, wary of provoking retaliation against the nine other system campuses also under investigation. The damage to date at UCLA is “minor in comparison to the threat that looms,” Milliken noted in a mid-September statement. “We are in uncharted waters.”

So UC has pursued settlement discussions with the government. According to a person familiar with the matter, it has retained William Levi, who served in Trump’s first administration as a special assistant to the president, counselor to the attorney general and chief of staff at the Justice Department, to lead the talks.

If UC’s leaders have preached restraint, its faculty has opted for open defiance. In addition to the suit that prompted the federal judge, Lin, to restore UCLA’s frozen research grants, a complaint filed in September by the American Association of University Professors and other faculty groups challenged the legality of the Trump administration’s entire assault on UC. At a hearing on Nov. 6, the government’s lawyer acknowledged that the administration’s “hodgepodge” of actions against the system hadn’t followed established civil rights procedures but said the administration had the right to direct funding based on the Trump administration’s “policy priorities.”

Lin didn’t buy it. A week later, in an unusually sweeping preliminary injunction, she barred all of the Trump administration’s actual and threatened moves to punish UC, including the $1.2 billion payment demand. The Trump administration’s “playbook,” she wrote, citing comments by Terrell and others, illegally used civil rights investigations and funding cuts as a way of “bringing universities to their knees and forcing them to change their ideological tune.”

Although Lin ordered the Trump administration to lift the ban on new research grants to UC, approvals were slow to resume. In public remarks before the Board of Regents on Nov. 19, Milliken said that more than 400 grants across the system remained suspended or terminated, representing “more than $230 million in research activity on hold.” He and others at UC have expressed concerns that the system’s pathway to new grants will be blocked.

In our interview, Milliken defended how UC has responded to the Trump administration, saying the university has held its ground on its governance, mission and academic freedom.

“We recognize the differing opinions on how UC should engage with the federal government,” he said. “Our efforts remain focused on solutions that keep UC strong for Californians and Americans.”

U.S. service members — including staff officers and at least one drone pilot — are seeking advice from outside groups, fearing they could face legal consequences for any involvement in the Trump administration's lethal strikes on suspected drug boats.

Over the past three months, the U.S. has blown up more than 20 vessels in the Caribbean and Eastern Pacific that the administration says were running illicit narcotics. More than 80 people have been killed in the strikes.

The administration says it is taking action to stop the flow of drugs into the U.S. It says the strikes are legal and are being conducted under the laws of war, and that President Trump ordered them under his Article II powers as commander-in-chief and in self-defense.

Many legal experts, however, including former military lawyers, contend the strikes against the alleged civilian narcotraffickers are unlawful and amount to murder.

The vast gulf between those two legal views has left some members of the U.S. military in the lurch, worried about potential legal blowback for themselves for taking part in the campaign.

"It's hard to be a soldier and make determinations in any situation, but it's especially hard in a situation like this — where most people don't see an imminent threat — to be sent to do something that you're really worried about, could I go to prison for this?" said Steve Woolford, a resource counselor with Quaker House in North Carolina and the GI Rights Hotline.

His organization — one of several that make up the GI Rights Hotline, which provides confidential counseling and information for members of the American military — has received calls from service members since the administration began blasting suspected narcotrafficking boats in September.

Quaker House has been contacted so far by two service members who Woolford said were "very concerned" about their own involvement in the campaign.

"Their calls were both about the legality of what they were participating in and what that might mean for them in terms of being subject to punishment for doing something that they weren't supposed to do and were supposed to know better than to do," he said. "Both of them also had moral concerns because they are people who are willing to be part of defense but they don't want to be part of doing something illegal, or I don't think they feel right killing people outside of the laws of war."

Woolford, who is not an attorney, said in both instances the service members were put in touch with lawyers who could provide more guidance on the legal issues.

"A lot more calls"

Military personnel have also reached out to attorneys at the Orders Project, which is a nonpartisan group that serves as a reference for service members who have questions about lawful and unlawful orders.

"We're receiving a lot more calls in the last three months than we did before," said Frank Rosenblatt, a former military lawyer with the Orders Project.

He declined to provide numbers, but he said some of the individuals are staff officers with legal, intelligence or targeting expertise.

"What we're finding out is that they're being told that there are these political appointees who really want to be able to talk about this and ... say everybody in the military who looked at this said it was 'green light, A-OK, good to go,'" said Rosenblatt, who is a former lieutenant colonel in the U.S. Army Judge Advocate General Corps.

Pressure from above

When some of those career officers don't sign off, instead indicating 'non-concur,' they are coming under pressure from higher-ups, he said.

"So much pressure, in some cases, that they're giving us a call to say, 'What are my options? I want to do the right thing but I also don't want to torpedo my career unnecessarily.'"

The Orders Project's attorneys who speak with service members are not giving "grand decrees" about whether an order is lawful or unlawful, Rosenblatt said. Instead, the guidance they provide is focused on what's in the caller's best interest.

"Generically, the advice that we might give might vary from how you can document the pressure you are receiving, to what kind of questions you can ask or clarification you can seek," he added.

Rosenblatt said his group has received calls from at least one drone pilot, but both he and Woolford at Quaker House said generally the service members who are reaching out are not the people pulling the trigger. Instead, they say, the callers are more on the operational planning side.

While the number of callers may not be large at this point, the fact that service members are reaching out at all reflects the confusion and worry some of them feel about what they are being ordered to do.

Woolford said that many people have voiced a concern that any future consequences for service members should be based on the law but they worry it may end up being driven by politics instead.

"And then it just becomes this complicated guessing game of who's going to be in charge and what are they going to say is right as opposed to maybe the more solid foundation of 'we have accepted rules we can just go by,'" he said. "So that's just a really hard thing for people in the military to try to be guessing."

Copyright 2025 NPR

The top authorities of U.S. cancer statistics will soon have to classify the sex of patients strictly as male, female, or unknown, a change scientists and advocates say will harm the health of transgender people, one of the nation’s most marginalized populations.

Scientists and advocates for trans rights say the change will make it much harder to understand cancer diagnoses and trends among the trans population. Certain studies have shown that transgender people are more likely to use tobacco products or less likely to receive routine cancer screenings — factors that could put them at higher risk of disease.

The change is a consequence of Trump administration policies recognizing only “male” and “female” sexes, according to cancer researchers.

Scientists said the change will affect all cancer registries, in every state and territory, because they receive federal funding. Starting in 2026, registries funded through the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and the National Cancer Institute will categorize cancer patients as male, female, or not stated/unknown. And federal health agencies will receive data only on cancer patients classified that way.

Registries currently specify whether a cancer patient’s sex is “male,” “female,” “other,” various options for “transsexual,” or that the patient’s sex is not stated or unknown.

President Donald Trump in January issued an executive order stating that the government would recognize only male and female sexes. Cancer registry officials said the federal government directed them to revise how they collect data on cancer patients.

“In the U.S., if you’re receiving federal money, then we, essentially, we weren’t given any choice,” Eric Durbin, director of the Kentucky Cancer Registry and president of the North American Association of Central Cancer Registries, told KFF Health News. NAACCR, which receives federal funds, maintains cancer reporting standards across the U.S. and Canada.

Officials will need to classify patients’ sex as unknown when a “patient’s sex is documented as other than male or female (e.g., non-binary, transsexual), and there is no additional information about sex assigned at birth,” the new standard says.

Missing the Big Picture

Researchers said they do not have high-quality population-level data on cancer incidence in transgender people but had been making inroads at improving it — work now at risk of being undone.

“When it comes to cancer and inequities around cancer, you can use the cancer registries to see where the dirtiest air pollution is, because lung cancer rates are higher in those areas. You can see the impact of nuclear waste storage because of the types of cancers that are higher in those ZIP codes, in those areas of the country,” said Shannon Kozlovich, who is on the executive committee of the California Dialogue on Cancer.

“The more parts of our population that we are excluding from this dataset means that we are not going to know what’s happening,” she said. “And that doesn’t mean that it’s not happening.”

For decades, cancer registries have been the most comprehensive U.S. surveillance tool for understanding cancer incidence and survival rates and identifying troubling disease trends. Each year, cancer cases are reported by hospitals, pathology labs, and other health facilities into regional and statewide cancer registries. The compiled data documents cancer and mortality rates among regions, races, sexes, and age groups.

Two federal programs serve as the top authorities on cancer statistics, with information on tens of millions of cases. The CDC’s National Program of Cancer Registries provides funding to organizations in 46 states, the District of Columbia, Puerto Rico, the U.S. Virgin Islands, and the U.S. Pacific Island territories. Its data represents 97% of the U.S. population. The National Cancer Institute’s Surveillance, Epidemiology, and End Results program, known as SEER, collects and publishes data from registries covering nearly half the U.S. population.

The information published by cancer registries has led to changes in treatment and prevention, and the enactment of other policies designed to reduce diagnosis rates and mortality.

For example, data collected by cancer registries was essential in identifying rising rates of colorectal cancer among people younger than 50. As a result, U.S. guidelines now recommend that adults start screenings at age 45 rather than 50.

States have enacted their own measures. Lara Anton, spokesperson for the Texas Department of State Health Services, said epidemiologists with the Texas Cancer Registry in 2018 found that the state had the nation’s highest incidence rates of hepatocellular carcinoma, a liver cancer more common in men than women. The Cancer Prevention and Research Institute of Texas initiated a statewide effort aimed at reversing rising rates of liver cancer. The Texas Cancer Registry joined SEER in 2021.

“Once a cancer patient is entered into a cancer registry, we follow those patients for the rest of their lives. Because we really need to know, do patients survive for different types of cancer and different stages of cancer?” Durbin said. “That’s incredibly important for public policies.”

The North American Association of Central Cancer Registries maintains national standards outlining what kind of data registries collect for each diagnosis. It develops the list in partnership with the CDC, the National Cancer Institute, and other organizations.

For any given patient, under NAACCR’s standards, Durbin said, registries collect more than 700 pieces of information, including demographics, diagnosis, treatment, and length of survival. CDC and NCI-funded registries must specify the sex of each patient.

The NAACCR definitions and accompanying data standards are designed to ensure that registries collect case data uniformly. “Everyone essentially follows the standards” that NAACCR develops, Durbin said. Although registries can collect state-specific information, researchers said they need to follow those standards when sending cancer data to the federal government.

In an emailed statement, Department of Health and Human Services spokesperson Andrew Nixon said, “HHS is using biological science to guide policy, not ideological agendas that the Biden administration perpetrated.”

‘Backwards’ Progress

NAACCR routinely publishes updated guidelines. But the change to the “sex” category to remove transgender options in 2026 was an emergency move due to Trump administration policies, Kozlovich said. She was among a group that had pushed for changes in cancer data collection to account for sex and gender identity as separate data points.

According to an analysis of CDC data by the Williams Institute at the UCLA School of Law, 2.8 million people age 13 and older identify as transgender.

Scientists and trans rights advocates said in interviews that there are troubling signs that may make transgender people more likely to develop cancer or experience worse health outcomes than others.

“Without evidence of our health disparities, you take away any impetus to fix them,” said Scout, executive director of the LGBTQIA+ Cancer Network.

A study published in 2022 found that transgender and gender-diverse populations were two to three times as likely as cisgender people to report active use of cigarettes, e-cigarettes, or cigars. Tobacco use is a leading cause of cancer and death from cancer.

A Canadian study concluded in 2019 that transgender patients were less likely to receive recommended screenings for breast, cervical, and colorectal cancers. And a 2023 study from researchers at Stanford Medicine found that LGBTQ+ patients were nearly three times as likely to experience breast cancer recurrence as cisgender heterosexual people.

Scarlett Lin Gomez, an epidemiologist at the University of California-San Francisco and the director of the Greater Bay Area Cancer Registry, said that for at least 10 years the NCI had been interested in improving its ability to monitor cancer burden across patient populations with different sexual orientations and gender identities. Cancer registries are a logical place to start because that is what they’re set up to do, she said.

There’s been “slow but good progress,” Gomez said. “But now we’ve completely, personally, I think, regressed backwards.”

The decision not to capture transgender identity in cancer patients is just one change registries have confronted under the Trump administration, according to scientists leading surveillance efforts and state health agencies. An HHS mandate to reduce spending on contracts led to funding cuts for cancer registries in NCI’s SEER program. Scientists said CDC funds for registries haven’t been cut; however, the White House’s proposed fiscal 2026 budget aims to eliminate funding for the National Program of Cancer Registries.

Among the Trump administration’s other actions targeting trans people are canceling research grants for studies on LGBTQ+ health, dismantling the National Institutes of Health’s office for sexual and gender minority health, and stopping specialized services for LGBTQ+ youth on the 988 national suicide prevention hotline.

Without data, researchers can’t make a case to fund research that may help trans patients, Gomez said. “It’s erasure.”