The Lyndon Baines Johnson Department of Education Building in Washington, D.C., which houses the U.S. Department of Education. President Donald Trump’s recent executive order seeks to shift federal education oversight to states, raising questions about the department’s future.

On March 20, 2025, President Donald Trump signed Executive Order 14189 in the East Room of the White House, directing Education Secretary Linda McMahon to “facilitate the closure” of the U.S. Department of Education and shift its authority to states and local communities. This bold move, fulfilling a cornerstone promise of Trump’s 2024 campaign, aims to dismantle an agency long targeted by conservatives since its 1979 inception under President Jimmy Carter. While the order marks a seismic shift in federal education policy, its full execution faces legal and legislative hurdles, as only Congress can abolish the department outright—a reality the administration acknowledges but seeks to sidestep through aggressive internal restructuring.

The signing ceremony, flanked by schoolchildren at desks and state flags, underscored Trump’s narrative of returning education to local control. “We’re going to shut it down as quickly as possible,” he declared, accusing the department of “breathtaking failures” and indoctrinating youth with “liberal ideology.” The White House justified the closure by citing stagnant test scores despite a $238 billion budget in 2024, though UNESCO data shows U.S. education spending at 5.4% of GDP—high globally, yet not tops. The order instructs McMahon to act “to the maximum extent permitted by law,” a nod to its legal limits, and promises uninterrupted delivery of critical services like student loans and Pell Grants, though specifics remain vague.

Trump’s administration has already slashed the department’s workforce by nearly half since January 20, 2025. From 4,133 employees, 600 resigned or retired, and 1,300 were laid off by March 12, leaving 2,183 staffers—a reduction overseen partly by Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE). The executive order builds on this, transferring the $1.69 trillion student loan portfolio to the Small Business Administration and suggesting other functions, like Title I funding for low-income schools ($18.4 billion) and IDEA support for disabled students ($15.5 billion), move to agencies like Health and Human Services. Critics warn this risks chaos, with no clear timeline or plan articulated beyond McMahon’s pledge to “do this right.”

Opposition has been swift and fierce. Democrats, including House Minority Leader Hakeem Jeffries, decried the move as “reckless,” arguing it jeopardizes vulnerable students—those in poverty, with disabilities, or from minority groups—by gutting civil rights enforcement and federal aid. The National Education Association’s Becky Pringle called it “catastrophic,” predicting soaring class sizes and slashed services. Legal challenges loom, with groups like the National Student Legal Defense Network exploring lawsuits, citing the department’s statutory creation under the 1979 Department of Education Organization Act. Senate Democrats, holding a slim 47-53 minority, vow to block any abolition bill, which would need 60 votes to pass.

Trump’s allies see it differently. Senator Bill Cassidy (R-La.) promised legislation to codify the closure, while supporters like Moms for Liberty cheer the dismantling of what they call a “woke” bureaucracy. The administration ties this to broader goals—expanding school choice, cutting diversity programs, and prioritizing “patriotism” in education—mirroring parts of the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 playbook, despite Trump’s campaign disavowal. Yet, even some Republicans question the feasibility. Experts like Donald Kettl of the University of Maryland argue it offers little fiscal savings to offset Trump’s tax-cut agenda, calling it a symbolic “box-shifting” exercise.

As of March 23, 2025, the department limps on, its fate uncertain. Trump’s order tests the bounds of executive power, but without congressional approval, it’s a partial dismantle at best—disrupting operations while leaving core programs in limbo. For students, parents, and educators, the fallout remains unclear, caught between a president’s vision and a system too entrenched to vanish overnight.

Image is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International license and was created by G. Edward Johnson.