This article originally appeared in The Detroit News August 12, 2025.

College freshmen will stream on to campus later this month, trailed by proud but teary-eyed parents. Ask a first-year student what they are looking forward to most, as I did this week, and they might say meeting other students or listening to a well-known professor’s lectures or joining a club.

These are some of the wonderful aspects of a college experience. But don’t count on them.

Michigan courts recently decided that the college experience can change at any time, regardless of student expectations. The courts said there’s a big difference between what colleges advertise to students and what they are obligated to provide.

The litigation started during the COVID-19 lockdowns. Gov. Gretchen Whitmer shut down institutions across Michigan. She ordered gyms, offices, state agencies, nonprofits and restaurants to close their doors.

Michigan’s public universities also locked down. Michigan State University closed face-to-face instruction in March 2020. Students who had paid to enjoy the full campus experience were instead confined to dorm rooms to watch webinars. How can that cost as much as the real thing?

A number of college students lawyered up.

James Allen, Matthew Olin and Megan Placko were students at MSU. They each sued the university, seeking partial refunds for room and board, tuition and mandatory student fees. They claimed that MSU was in breach of contract by cancelling in-person classes, campus activities and student services. Students at most state schools filed similar lawsuits.

Megan Placko detailed the events she missed out on: a speaker series, film viewings, musical performances, days of service and her on-campus graduation commencement.

It’s no mystery why admissions offices highlight the features and benefits of a college when recruiting new students. Colleges emphasize the rich learning environment, the traditions on campus, the access students will have to faculty members, the libraries and career opportunities. But all of that disappeared for college students in 2020.

MSU fought back hard, arguing for the right to change its programs, policies and regulations. The university said it was not contractually bound to hold in-person classes. The court summarized MSU’s argument: “Students do not have any implied contractual rights to expect any specific form of instructional delivery or student services.”

The Michigan Court of Appeals ruled in MSU’s favor this past December.

The court was blunt: “There was never an agreement stipulating that education and services had to be delivered in a specific format.”

Sure, admissions brochures depict happy students congregating on campus or huddling around a pontificating professor. But pamphlets and course catalogs are not contractual documents; they merely explain the types of classes available. Tuition, said the court, is based on credit hours, not a particular class format.

The court went further, praising Michigan State: “MSU successfully maintained the core of its educational mission — providing instruction and various services for students — throughout the pandemic.”

The appeals court heard several other cases against other schools, and ruled for the university in each one. The students decided not to appeal to the Michigan Supreme Court, which dismissed similar cases earlier in 2024.

This reality check comes at a crucial time in higher education, as Gov. Whitmer promotes her Sixty by 30 program to get more Michiganians into college, as federal funding battles and violent protests cause uncertainty on campus, and as more Americans reassess the value of college itself — at least in comparison with practical work experience or training in marketable skills.

So to 2025 freshmen and their parents writing tuition checks: You’re buying credit hours, not an experience. Everything else — the labs, the lectures, the campus life — can disappear at any time. Don’t expect a refund.

Permission to reprint this blog post in whole or in part is hereby granted, provided that the author (or authors) and the Mackinac Center for Public Policy are properly cited.