From Hackathon to Higher Ed: BlackRock’s Quiet Capture of the University

BlackRock’s recent promotional piece, “From Hackathon to Higher Ed: The BlackRock for Universities Story,” presents the financial giant as an innovative, student-focused partner in education. On the surface, it’s a compelling narrative: a creative idea born at a company hackathon grows into a program that gives college students access to powerful investment tools and mentorship from professionals. But beneath this polished story lies a deeper concern—one that speaks to the creeping corporatization of higher education and the normalization of Wall Street ideologies on campus.

BlackRock for Universities (BLK4U) isn’t just an educational outreach initiative. It’s a branding vehicle. It exposes students—especially those in student-managed investment funds (SMIFs)—to BlackRock’s proprietary Aladdin platform, a cornerstone of the company’s vast influence in the global asset management industry. The program’s reach into university classrooms and finance labs presents itself as educational, but it’s fundamentally about cultivating loyalty and familiarity with BlackRock’s tools and worldview.

BLK4U’s narrative of empowerment masks a deeper structural reality: it privileges institutions that already have access to well-funded investment programs. While the article notes some outreach to HBCUs and diverse student groups, the core of the initiative targets elite universities with robust finance programs. The result is a form of digital gatekeeping, where certain students are primed to succeed in finance while others are left out of the pipeline entirely. Rather than democratizing opportunity, BLK4U reinforces existing hierarchies—between institutions, students, and regions.

What’s missing from BlackRock’s story is any serious reflection on the ethical dimensions of its work or the broader implications of its presence in academia. Students aren’t being asked to examine the role that BlackRock plays in climate finance, corporate governance, housing markets, or public pensions. They’re not learning about the critiques of financialization or the democratic consequences of concentrated economic power. They’re learning how to use Aladdin.

In this way, BLK4U exemplifies the shift from education as a public good to education as workforce training. Students are taught to speak the language of portfolio optimization, but not to question why wealth is so unequally distributed or how the financial sector has shaped those outcomes. They’re trained in storytelling, but not in accountability.

The story’s hackathon origin is meant to emphasize grassroots innovation, but hackathons themselves are often used within corporations to generate ideas that serve institutional goals—not the public interest. It’s unlikely that a program like BLK4U would have moved forward if it didn’t align with BlackRock’s long-term strategy of influence-building, talent acquisition, and brand saturation. Calling this initiative a “win for students” is disingenuous without acknowledging the asymmetries of power it reinforces.

Even BlackRock’s claim to promote “financial well-being” deserves scrutiny. Whose financial well-being? For whom is this education truly built? The firm manages trillions in assets for governments, pension funds, and corporations, but its influence has drawn bipartisan criticism—from the left for its role in exacerbating inequality and climate risk, and from the right for its ESG positions and market dominance. Embedding BlackRock’s ideology into college finance programs risks training the next generation of financial professionals not to challenge that power, but to replicate it.

What we see in BLK4U is not an isolated case, but part of a broader trend in which corporate actors shape higher education behind the scenes. Whether through tech platforms, consulting partnerships, or curriculum design, companies like BlackRock are quietly steering the future of education toward their own ends. These programs may look like public service, but they function as strategic investments in control and compliance.

As the Higher Education Inquirer has long documented, the privatization of knowledge and the encroachment of financial interests into academic life are not theoretical concerns—they are unfolding in real time. BlackRock’s venture into the classroom is not just a story about mentorship or innovation. It’s a story about soft power, captured institutions, and the narrowing of what education is allowed to be.

In a truly democratic education system, students would not only learn how to use tools like Aladdin—they would also learn how to critique them. Until that’s part of the curriculum, programs like BLK4U deserve far more skepticism than celebration.

Harvard and Yale Selling Off Private Equity Stakes

Harvard and Yale—titans of American higher education and longtime bellwethers of endowment strategy—are quietly offloading billions in private equity holdings. These moves, confirmed through multiple reports and market insiders, signal a significant shift in institutional investing, with potential ripple effects across the higher ed landscape and beyond.

The two Ivies, boasting the largest university endowments in the world ($50.7 billion for Harvard, $40.7 billion for Yale as of 2024), have long championed the “Yale model” of endowment investing: high allocations to illiquid assets such as private equity, venture capital, hedge funds, and real assets like timberland and oil. But the bloom is off the rose.

From Darling to Dilemma

Private equity once promised high returns, portfolio diversification, and access to elite deals not available to public investors. In the wake of the 2008 financial crisis, as traditional markets stagnated, institutions doubled down on alternative investments. For years, this strategy paid off—at least on paper.

But cracks have been forming.

Private equity valuations have come under scrutiny as deal activity has slowed, interest rates have risen, and exits through IPOs and acquisitions have dried up. Many private equity funds are now sitting on aging portfolios—so-called "zombie funds"—that have not returned capital in years. Meanwhile, limited partners like universities are increasingly liquidity-constrained, especially as operating costs rise and tuition-dependent revenues remain fragile.

Harvard Management Company and Yale’s Investment Office, once aggressive buyers, are now sellers on the secondary market. Reports indicate both institutions are using intermediaries to quietly market stakes in private equity funds—often at discounts of 10% to 20%, or more, below net asset value.

A Broader Retreat?

This retreat isn’t just about balance sheet management. It’s a broader reassessment of what endowments should be doing—and what risks they should be bearing.

Universities face mounting scrutiny over their massive, tax-advantaged endowments and their relationships with Wall Street. Critics question why institutions with social missions are entangled in opaque, leveraged, and sometimes predatory industries. Private equity firms, after all, have been deeply involved in sectors like healthcare, housing, for-profit education, and prison services—areas where returns often come at the cost of public welfare.

Moreover, the mismatch between the long lock-up periods of private equity investments and the growing need for financial flexibility is becoming more apparent. University administrators now must navigate volatile geopolitical conditions, student protests over divestment, and uncertain federal funding. Liquidity matters more than it did a decade ago.

The End of the Yale Model?

David Swensen, Yale’s late investment chief, revolutionized university finance with his embrace of illiquid alternatives. But times have changed. While the strategy made Yale’s endowment a model for copycats, today it may represent an outdated orthodoxy.

Harvard and Yale’s pivot may be the beginning of the end for the “Yale model” as we know it. Other institutions—especially smaller endowments that tried to mimic the Ivies—may find themselves stuck with toxic assets, unable to unload them without taking steep losses.

In fact, some mid-tier and small colleges may have to choose between covering operational costs and holding on to underperforming private equity positions. For those with limited financial cushions, the fallout could be existential.

Higher Ed’s Reckoning with Risk

The endowment shift also raises a philosophical question: What is the purpose of university wealth?

As elite schools back away from the riskier corners of Wall Street, perhaps it's time for a broader reckoning—about not just how universities invest, but why. Should institutions built on ideals of knowledge, access, and social progress be hand-in-glove with industries known for wage suppression, regulatory arbitrage, and asset stripping?

Harvard and Yale may be late to that moral realization. But their financial pivot is a sign that even the most powerful players can’t ignore reality forever.

In the age of growing student debt, declining public trust, and ballooning inequality, selling off a few private equity funds is a small move. But it could be the start of a larger shift—one where higher education finally begins to question whether its financial strategies align with its educational mission.

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If you have insights into university endowment strategies or are a whistleblower inside the private equity world, contact us confidentially at Higher Education Inquirer. 

How US Colleges Became Corporations (Second Thought)

2U Declares Chapter 11 Bankruptcy. Will Anyone Else Name All The Elite Universities That Were Complicit?

2U declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy today and the company is now valued at less than $5M. That's a small shadow of the $5.4B perceived value it had in mid-2018.

As a company that will be owned and operated by vulture capitalists (VCs), 2U (TWOU) and its subsidiary edX will fall below the radar. But that won't stop the company from ensnaring more students for overpriced "elite" and "brand name" degrees and certificates--as it tries to survive. In fact, it might make it easier. The visible economic market and its media won't care anymore. 

According to Higher Education Dive, backers of the latest scheme include three vulture capital firms: Mudrick Capital Management (Madison Avenue in NYC), Greenvale Capital (London) and Bayside Capital (Miami/London). 

Somehow, these VC firms will try to extract value from the bankruptcy deal. But how they do that is a mystery. C-suite executives have already gotten some of their bonuses, leaving little else for workers. Reducing labor costs (firing people) will be essential. Not paying their bills is another. Continuing to deceive consumers would be difficult to change. Even after the deal, 2U will still be laden with more than $400M in debt.

Since 2019, we have tried to expose 2U and its business practices, as well as the role of elite university partners in enabling the sale of advanced degrees and edtech certificates that led to few good jobs and lots of consumer debt.  When they acquired edX from Harvard and MIT for $800M, we doubled down.

The Higher Education Inquirer has been the only outlet to name the elite schools that were complicit in this scheme that took money away from consumers just trying to get ahead. Not just USC, but Harvard and MIT, and Yale, and Cal Berkeley, and the University of North Carolina, and Syracuse, and Pepperdine, and many others. Check out the links below to learn more about how this higher ed scheme developed and collapsed. And how this is just the latest wave of edugrift. 

 

Related links:

HurricaneTWOU.com: Digital Protest Exposes Syracuse, USC, Pepperdine, and University of North Carolina in 2U edX Edugrift (2024)

2U-edX crash exposes the latest wave of edugrift (2023)

2U Virus Expands College Meltdown to Elite Universities (2019)

Buyer Beware: Servicemembers, Veterans, and Families Need to Be On Guard with College and Career Choices (2021)

College Meltdown 2.1 (2022)

EdTech Meltdown (2023)  

Erica Gallagher Speaks Out About 2U's Shady Practices at Department of Education Virtual Listening Meeting (2023)