Higher Education Without Illusions

In 2025, the landscape of higher education is dominated by contradictions, crises, and the relentless churn of what might be called “collegemania.” Underneath the polished veneer of university marketing—the glossy brochures, viral TikToks, and celebrity endorsements—lurks a network of systemic pressures that students, faculty, and society at large must navigate. The hashtags trending below the masthead of Higher Education Without Illusions capture the full spectrum of these pressures: #accountability, #adjunct, #AI, #AImeltdown, #algo, #alienation, #anomie, #anxiety, #austerity, #BDR, #bot, #boycott, #BRICS, #climate, #collegemania, #collegemeltdown, #crypto, #divest, #doomloop, #edugrift, #enshittification, #FAFSA, #greed, #incel, #jobless, #kleptocracy, #medugrift, #moralcapital, #nokings, #nonviolence, #PSLF, #QOL, #rehumanization, #resistance, #robocollege, #robostudent, #roboworker, #solidarity, #strikedebt, #surveillance, #temperance, #TPUSA, #transparency, #Trump, #veritas.

Taken together, these words map the terrain of higher education as it exists today: a fragile ecosystem strained by debt, automation, political polarization, and climate urgency. Students are increasingly treated as commodities (#robostudent, #strikedebt), faculty are underpaid and precarious (#adjunct, #medugrift), and universities themselves are subjected to the whims of markets and algorithms (#algo, #AImeltdown, #robocollege).

Financial pressures are unrelenting. The FAFSA system, once intended as a bridge to opportunity, now functions as a tool of surveillance and debt management (#FAFSA, #BDR). Public service loan forgiveness (#PSLF) continues to be delayed or denied, leaving graduates to navigate the twin anxieties of indebtedness and joblessness (#jobless, #doomloop). Meanwhile, austerity measures squeeze institutional budgets, often at the expense of research, mental health support, and academic freedom (#austerity, #anomie, #anxiety).

Automation and artificial intelligence are now central to the higher education ecosystem. AI grading tools, predictive enrollment algorithms, and administrative bots promise efficiency but often produce alienation and ethical dilemmas (#AI, #AImeltdown, #roboworker, #bot). In this context, “robocollege” is not a metaphor but a lived reality for many students navigating hyper-digitized classrooms where human mentorship is increasingly rare.

Political and cultural currents further complicate the picture. From the influence of conservative campus organizations (#TPUSA, #Trump) to global shifts in power (#BRICS), universities are battlegrounds for ideological and material stakes. Moral capital—the credibility and legitimacy of an institution—is increasingly intertwined with corporate sponsorships, divestment movements, and climate commitments (#moralcapital, #divest, #climate). At the same time, greed and kleptocracy (#greed, #kleptocracy) permeate administration and policy decisions, eroding trust in higher education’s social mission.

Yet amid this bleakness, there are threads of resistance and rehumanization. Student debt strikes, faculty solidarity networks, and advocacy for transparency (#strikedebt, #solidarity, #transparency, #rehumanization) reveal a persistent desire to reclaim the university as a space of collective flourishing rather than pure financial extraction. Nonviolence (#nonviolence), temperance (#temperance), and boycotts (#boycott) reflect strategic, principled responses to systemic crises, even as anxiety and alienation persist.

Ultimately, higher education without illusions demands that we confront both the structural and human dimensions of its crises. Universities are not just engines of credentialing and profit—they are social institutions embedded in broader networks of power, ideology, and technology. A recognition of #veritas and #QOL (quality of life) alongside the demands of #collegemania and #enshittification is essential for any hope of reform.

The hashtags are more than social media markers—they are diagnostics. They chart a system in flux, exposing the frictions between automation and humanity, austerity and access, greed and moral responsibility. They call on all of us—students, educators, policymakers, and citizens—to act with accountability, solidarity, and courage.

Higher education without illusions is not pessimism; it is clarity. Only by naming the pressures and contradictions can we begin to imagine institutions that serve human flourishing rather than perpetuate cycles of debt, alienation, and social inequality.

Sources & Further Reading:

• An American Sickness, Elisabeth Rosenthal

• Medical Apartheid, Harriet Washington

• Body and Soul, Alondra Nelson

• HEI coverage of student debt, adjunct labor, and AI in higher education

Austerity and Disruption

With a concerted effort now to reduce government spending, higher education leaders should expect reduced state and federal support in 2025 and beyond, with demographic and climate trends also darkening the clouds. Workers and consumers should also see it all coming. 

Austerity has already begun. In July 2024, the Pew Foundation reported that state budgets were facing cuts as Covid-era funds ended.  The most notable cuts are coming to the California State University System, which is expected to reduce its budget by hundred of millions of dollars. But several other states are feeling the pinch. 

Austerity for higher education is also likely to increase at the state level as baby boomers reach advanced age and require more medical attention and nursing home care. How this demographic cliff of old age, reduced fertility, and fluctuating populations plays out will vary greatly across the United States. 

Some Southern states, like Florida, Texas, Georgia, and North Carolina, have improved financially despite threats from climate change. Anti-tax, anti-regulation, and anti-union laws make them friendly to corporations in search of relocation and a better deal. States in the West, like Utah, Arizona, and Nevada, are are also likely to continue thriving. Besides climate change, which is profoundly disruptive but takes generations to notice, mass deportations could affect their economies quickly--if the Trump Administration's threats can be carried out. 

Alaska, New Mexico, Oregon, and several states in the Midwest and Atlantic regions will face more austerity as their populations remain stagnant or decline and folks move to states with lower housing costs and less taxes, leaving others to die. Deaths of despair among youth will continue to ravage them. What happens with these failing states in the future is anyone's guess. One would hope higher education leaders would have solutions and be courageous enough to act, or at the very least allow those with solutions to talk. 

A Century of American Exploitation: Oil, Crypto, and the Struggle for Latin America’s Universities

Latin America—a region of thirty-three countries stretching from Mexico through Central and South America and across the Caribbean—has spent more than a century fighting against foreign exploitation. Its universities, which should anchor local prosperity, cultural autonomy, and democratic life, have instead been repeatedly reshaped by foreign corporations, U.S. government interests, global lenders, and now crypto speculators. Yet the region’s history is also defined by persistent, courageous resistance, led overwhelmingly by students, faculty, and Indigenous communities.

Understanding today’s educational crisis in Latin America requires tracing this long arc of exploitation—and the struggle to build systems rooted in equity rather than extraction.

1900s–1930s: Bananas, Oil, and the Rise of the “Banana Republics”

Early in the 20th century, American corporations established vast profit-making empires in Latin America. United Fruit Company—today’s Chiquita Banana—dominated land, labor, and politics across Guatemala, Honduras, and Costa Rica. Standard Oil and Texaco secured petroleum concessions in Venezuela and Ecuador, laying foundations for decades of foreign control that extracted immense wealth while leaving behind environmental devastation, as seen in Texaco’s toxic legacy in the Ecuadorian Amazon between 1964 and 1992.

Universities were bent toward these foreign interests. Agricultural programs were geared toward serving plantation economies, not local farmers. Engineering and geological research aligned with extractive industries, not community development.

Resistance did emerge. Student groups in Guatemala and Costa Rica formed part of early anti-oligarchic movements, linking national sovereignty to university reform. Their demands echoed global currents of democratization. Evidence of these early student-led struggles appears in archival materials and Latin American scholarship on university reform, and culminates in the influential 1918 Córdoba Manifesto in Argentina—a radical declaration that attacked oligarchic, colonial universities and demanded autonomy, co-governance, and public responsibility.

1940s–1980s: Coups, Cold War Interventions, and the Deepening of U.S. Oil Interests

During the Cold War, exploitation intensified. In Guatemala, the CIA-backed overthrow of democratically elected President Jacobo Árbenz in 1954 protected United Fruit’s land holdings. Universities were purged or militarized, and critical scholars were exiled or killed.

In Chile, the 1973 overthrow of Salvador Allende—supported by American corporate giants such as ITT and Anaconda Copper—ushered in a brutal dictatorship. Under Augusto Pinochet, thousands were murdered, tortured, or disappeared, while the Chicago Boys imported radical neoliberal reforms that privatized everything, including the higher education system.

Throughout the region, oil deals disproportionately favored American companies. Mexico and Venezuela saw petroleum wealth siphoned off through arrangements that benefited foreign investors while leaving universities underfunded and politically surveilled. Scholarship critical of foreign intervention was marginalized, while programs feeding engineers and economists to multinational firms were expanded.

Student resistance reached historic proportions. Chilean students and faculty formed the core of the anti-dictatorship movement. Mexico’s students rose in 1968, demanding democracy and university autonomy before being massacred in Tlatelolco. CIA declassified documents reveal that student uprisings across Latin America in the early 1970s were so widespread that U.S. intelligence considered them a regional threat.

1990s–2000s: Neoliberalism, Privatization, and the Americanization of Higher Education

In the 1990s, neoliberalism swept the region under pressure from Washington, the IMF, and the World Bank. After NAFTA, Mexico’s universities became increasingly aligned with corporate labor pipelines. In Brazil, Petrobras’ partnerships with American firms helped reshape engineering curricula. Private universities and for-profit models proliferated across the region, echoing U.S. higher ed corporatization.

Hugo Chávez captured the broader sentiment of resistance when he declared that public services—including education—cannot be privatized without violating fundamental rights.

Students fought back across Latin America. In Argentina and Brazil they contested tuition hikes and privatization. In Venezuela, the debate shifted toward whether oil revenue should fund tuition-free universities.

Indigenous Exclusion, Racism, and the Colonial Foundations of Inequality

One of the greatest challenges in understanding Latin American education is acknowledging the deep racial and ethnic stratification that predates U.S. exploitation but has been exacerbated by it. Countries like Ecuador, Bolivia, Peru, Mexico, Brazil, and Guatemala have large Indigenous populations that, to this day, receive the worst education—much like Native American communities relegated to underfunded reservation schools in the United States.

Racism remains powerful. Whiter populations enjoy greater economic and educational access. University admission is shaped by class and color. These divisions are not accidental; they are a machinery of control.

There have been important exceptions. Under President Rafael Correa, Ecuador built hundreds of new schools, including Siglo XXI and Millennium Schools, and expanded public education access. In Mexico, the 2019 constitutional reform strengthened Indigenous rights, including commitments to culturally relevant education. Bolivia—whose population is majority Indigenous—has promoted Indigenous languages, judicial systems, and education structures.

But progress is fragile. Austerity, IMF conditionalities, and elite resistance have led to cutbacks, school closures, and renewed privatization across the region. The study you provided on Ecuador documents Indigenous ambivalence, even hostility, toward Correa’s universal education plan—revealing how colonial wounds, cultural erasure, and distrust of state power complicate reform and provide openings for divide-and-conquer strategies long exploited by ruling classes.

These contradictions deepen when Indigenous movements—rightfully demanding no mining, no oil extraction, and protection of ancestral lands—collide with leftist governments reliant on resource extraction to fund public services. This tension is especially acute in Ecuador and Bolivia.

2010s–Present: Crypto Colonialism and a New Frontier of Exploitation

Cryptocurrency has opened a new chapter in Latin America’s long history of foreign-driven experimentation. El Salvador’s adoption of Bitcoin in 2021, promoted by President Nayib Bukele, transformed the country into a speculative test lab. Bukele has now spent more than $660 million in U.S. dollars on crypto, according to investigative reporting from InSight Crime. Universities rushed to create blockchain programs that primarily serve international investors rather than Salvadoran students.

In Venezuela, crypto became a survival tool amid hyperinflation and economic collapse. Yet foreign speculators profited while universities starved. Student groups warned that crypto research was being weaponized to normalize economic chaos and distract from public-sector deterioration.

Resistance has grown. Salvadoran students have protested the Bitcoin law, demanding that public resources focus on infrastructure, health, and education. Venezuelan students call for rebuilding social programs rather than chasing speculative financial technologies.

Contemporary Student Resistance: 2010s–2020s

Across the region, student movements remain powerful. The Chilean Winter of 2011–2013 demanded free, quality public education and challenged Pinochet’s neoliberal legacy. The movement culminated in the 2019 uprising, where education reform was central.

Mexico’s UNAM students continue to resist corruption, tuition hikes, gender violence, and the encroachment of corporate and foreign interests. The 1999–2000 UNAM strike remains one of the longest in modern higher education.

Colombian students have forced governments to negotiate and invest billions in public universities, framing their struggle as resistance to neoliberal austerity shaped by U.S. policy.

Argentina continues to face massive austerity-driven cuts, sparking protests in 2024–2025 reminiscent of earlier waves of resistance. Uruguay’s Tupamaros movement—largely student-led—remains a historical touchstone.

Every country in Latin America has experienced student uprisings. They reflect a truth that Paulo Freire, exiled from Brazil for teaching critical pedagogy, understood deeply: education can either liberate or oppress. Authoritarians, privatizers, and foreign capital prefer the latter, and they act accordingly.

Today’s Regional Education Crisis

The COVID-19 pandemic pushed the system into further crisis. Children in Latin America and the Caribbean lost one out of every two in-person school days between 2020 and 2022. Learning poverty now exceeds 50 percent. Entire generations risk permanent economic loss and civic disenfranchisement.

Infrastructure is collapsing. Rural and Indigenous communities suffer the worst conditions. Public investment is chronically insufficient because governments are trapped in cycles of debt repayment to international lenders. Ecuador has not seen a major public-investment program in a decade, as austerity and IMF repayments dominate national budgets.

The result is a system starved of resources and increasingly vulnerable to privatization schemes—including U.S.-style online coursework, ideological “instruction kits,” and for-profit degree mills.

Latin American Universities as Battlegrounds for Sovereignty

Latin America’s universities are shaped by the same forces that have dominated the region’s history: oil extraction, agribusiness, foreign capital, neoliberalism, structural racism, debt, and now crypto speculation. Yet universities have also been homes to transformation, rebellion, cultural resurgence, and hope.

Across more than a century, students—Indigenous, Afro-descendant, mestizo, working-class—have been the region’s fiercest defenders of public education and national sovereignty. Their resistance continues today, from Quito to Buenos Aires, from Mexico City to Santiago.

For readers of the Higher Education Inquirer, the lesson is clear: the struggle for higher education in Latin America is inseparable from the struggle for democracy, racial justice, Indigenous autonomy, and freedom from foreign domination. The region’s ruling elites and international lenders understand that an educated public is dangerous, which is why they starve, privatize, and discipline public schools. Students understand the opposite: that education is power, and that power must be reclaimed.

The next chapter—especially in countries like Ecuador—will depend on whether students, teachers, and communities can defend public education against the dual forces that have undermined it for more than a century: privatizers and fascists.

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Sources (Selection)

National Security Archive, CIA Declassified Documents (1971)
InSight Crime reporting on El Salvador Bitcoin expenditures
Luciani, Laura. “Latin American Student Movements in the 1960s.” Historia y Memoria (2019)
The Córdoba Manifesto (1918)
UNESCO, World Bank data on learning poverty (2024)
Latin American studies on United Fruit, Standard Oil, Texaco/Chevron in Ecuador
LASA Forum: Analysis of Indigenous responses to Correa’s education reforms
Periodico UNAL: “The Student Rebellion: Córdoba and Latin America”
Multiple regional news sources on Argentina’s 2024–2025 education protests

Alaska is Leading the College Meltdown. Who's Next?

Related article: Enrollment declines, campus closings, economic losses and the hollowing out of America   

 

Related graph:  State by State Funding for Higher Education, 2008-2017

In an recent article, titled "Enrollment declines, campus closings, economic losses, and the hollowing out of America," I posted the state-by-state enrollment drops from 2011 to 2018. These numbers are posted here. Alaska was at the top of the list, with a 31 percent drop in enrollment. However, there are other states with significant enrollment losses.

Besides Alaska, New Mexico, Hawaii, Michigan, Illinois, Oregon, Missouri, West Virginia, Montana, Minnesota, Arkansas, Louisiana, Kentucky, Indiana, Oklahoma, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Wisconsin have had the largest enrollment losses. What states do about the losses has varied, from austerity and tax cuts on the right side to prison reduction and social investments, such as free community colleges on the left.

What drives austerity, and higher education cuts, depends on many factors, and politics are important. State economies, movement of people and companies out of state, obligations to K-12 education, Medicaid, and infrastructure, enrollment losses and tax structures also play a large part in how dramatic these cuts will be. Alaska's recent cuts are a worst case scenario, but that doesn't mean we won't see dramatic funding cuts in other states and counties in the coming years.

I was reminded by one College Meltdown reader that Alaska was not the first state to feel Republican slash and burn tactics. Louisiana, under Bobby Jindal, felt it.

In fact, eight states cut funding more than 30 percent from 2008 to 2017: Arizona, Louisiana, Illinois, Pennsylvania, Alabama, Oklahoma, South Carolina, and New Mexico.

While Democrats and Republicans are diverse within their own parties, we can take a first look at the situation by charting higher education enrollment and state control and make the hypothesis that states with the largest enrollment losses and Republican control of state politics are most vulnerable to austerity, at least in the short run.

My first guess for the most vulnerable states? Missouri, West Virginia, Arkansas, Kentucky, and Indiana, and as many as 18 other states, because they are Republican controlled. But many others will have to make tough economic decisions, to increase taxes, reduce funding, and to make cuts elsewhere. This is especially true in states like Illinois, Michigan, and Wisconsin. The problem with raising taxes is that many people don't like to pay taxes, and they see higher education as an individual choice rather than a public investment. In some cases, they also see (or hear about) administrative largesse and university amenities that border on insanity.

Smart leaders will look for smart (and just) answers.

US Senate Reopens the Government—But Leaves the Working Class Behind

The U.S. Senate’s vote to reopen the federal government on Sunday will likely end a painful 40-day shutdown, but it does so at a cost that goes far beyond missed paychecks and delayed services. The deal, driven by pressure to restore “normalcy,” comes with an implicit betrayal: millions of Americans who rely on Affordable Care Act (ACA) subsidies are being left in limbo.

Those subsidies—lifelines for low- and middle-income Americans—are now set to expire at the end of the year. The so-called “continuing resolution” passed the Senate with bipartisan relief, but no guarantee that these critical supports will continue. In practical terms, Congress chose to reopen the government by walking away from those who most need its help.

A Shutdown Ends, but the Austerity Logic Continues

The 2025 shutdown was the longest in modern U.S. history, the result of partisan fights over spending and political maneuvering around health care. During that time, millions of Americans faced uncertainty: furloughed workers, delayed SNAP benefits, shuttered Head Start centers, and frozen federal contracts.

Now that the government is back in business, the same austerity logic remains intact. While defense spending and tax breaks for the wealthy are protected, basic supports like subsidized health insurance are treated as optional. It’s a familiar story—one that echoes through higher education, housing, and labor markets.

The End of ACA Subsidies Means a New Working-Class Squeeze

The ACA subsidies that expanded during the pandemic allowed millions of Americans—often those working multiple jobs without employer coverage—to afford health care for the first time. With their expiration looming, premiums are expected to skyrocket. For some, costs could double or triple.

This isn’t just about “health care.” It’s about how the American system continually shifts burdens downward. Families will make impossible choices: health coverage or rent, insulin or food, doctor visits or student loan payments.

At the same time, Senate Republicans have embraced Donald Trump’s renewed call to “replace Obamacare”—a move that could dismantle what’s left of the safety net altogether. 

The Broader Pattern: Abandoning the Working Class

The Senate’s actions fit a larger pattern of bipartisan neglect. Each “deal” that avoids short-term crisis seems to deepen long-term inequity.

• In health care: subsidies expire, Medicaid rolls shrink, and hospital mergers raise costs.

• In higher education: student debtors are promised relief but face new barriers, while for-profit and “online program management” companies continue to profit.

• In housing: low-income tenants are told to prove future earnings or risk eviction, even as rent outpaces inflation.

• In labor: wage stagnation persists, union power declines, and automation and AI make employment more precarious.

For Generation Z and millennials—already burdened with debt, low job security, and unaffordable housing—the message is consistent: you’re on your own.

Health and Education: Two Fronts of the Same Struggle

Health and education are supposed to be public goods, but both have become profit centers managed by corporate intermediaries and politicians chasing donors.

In health care, private insurers dominate ACA marketplaces. In higher ed, the same dynamic exists: online program managers (OPMs) and corporate lenders extract money while students shoulder debt. The government’s role becomes one of stabilizing markets—not stabilizing lives.

And when the working class pushes back—through union drives, debt strikes, or demands for universal health care—they’re met with the same refrain: “We can’t afford it.”

Austerity in a Time of Plenty

What’s striking is that this “fiscal responsibility” always targets the vulnerable. There’s no serious debate about clawing back corporate tax breaks or limiting Pentagon contracts. But when it comes to healthcare subsidies or student loan forgiveness, the belt suddenly tightens.

The working class subsidizes the rich, while being told that government aid is an indulgence. This political economy of scarcity has consequences—measured in bankruptcies, untreated illness, and despair.

Which Side Are You On?

When Woody Guthrie’s generation faced inequality, they had a rallying cry:

“Which side are you on, boys, which side are you on?”

That question remains as urgent as ever. The Senate’s decision to reopen government while discarding health care protections for millions tells us whose side Washington is on—and it’s not the side of the working class.

Until policymakers see health, housing, and education as human rights rather than bargaining chips, “reopening government” will be little more than a hollow ritual of restoration—for a system that keeps leaving its people behind.

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Sources:

• Time: “What to Know About the Deal to End the Shutdown” (Nov. 2025)

• Al Jazeera: “US Senate nears vote on bill to end 40-day government shutdown” (Nov. 2025)

• Financial Times: “Senators take first step to end US government shutdown” (Nov. 2025)

• The Guardian: “Senate Republicans embrace Trump’s call to replace Obamacare” (Nov. 2025)

• Detroit Free Press: “Michigan's U.S. senators reject deal to end shutdown” (Nov. 2025)

How Educated Neoliberals Built the Homelessness Crisis—and Why HUD’s New Cuts Will Make It Worse

The US Department of Housing and Urban Development has quietly announced one of the most drastic federal rollbacks in homelessness policy in decades: a massive cut to permanent housing under the Continuum of Care (CoC) program, with more than half of its 2026 funding diverted to transitional housing and compliance-based services. HUD’s own internal estimates warn that up to 170,000 people could lose housing as a result of the shift. For millions of Americans, especially those on the margins, this is not a policy adjustment; it is the beginning of a humanitarian disaster.

To understand how we arrived here, it is not enough to point at the Trump administration, the ideological crusade against “Housing First,” or the White House Faith Office now shaping federal grantmaking. One must also examine the educated neoliberals who built and normalized the system that made this possible.

HUD’s policy change overturns decades of federal commitment to permanent supportive housing, an evidence-backed model that dramatically reduces chronic homelessness. The new Notice of Funding Opportunity caps permanent housing at just 30 percent of CoC dollars, down from 87 percent in prior years, while the remainder is funneled toward transitional housing, work or service requirements, mandatory treatment, and faith-based compliance programs. The total funding for 2026 is roughly $3.9 billion across 7,000 grants. That amount, spread across hundreds of thousands of people experiencing homelessness, is barely sufficient to provide minimal assistance, let alone stable housing or the comprehensive services this population needs. One-third of existing programs will run out of funds before the new awards are issued in May, leaving vulnerable individuals exposed to eviction during the harshest months of winter. Ann Oliva, CEO of the National Alliance to End Homelessness and a former HUD official, described the rollout as deeply irresponsible, warning that the administration is setting communities up for failure.

For decades, U.S. policy has been shaped not just by conservatives but also by a sprawling class of highly educated managers: MBAs, MPPs, JDs, think-tank fellows, foundation executives, nonprofit administrators, and “innovation” consultants. They came from America’s elite universities, fluent in market logic, managerialism, and austerity politics. They preached efficiency, accountability, metrics, and self-sufficiency. Many also personally accumulated wealth, often owning multiple homes, benefiting from investment income, and exploiting loopholes to minimize or avoid taxes. Meanwhile, the programs they manage shrink support for the poor and vulnerable.

Through their influence, housing became a program, not a public good. Public housing construction largely disappeared, replaced by a grant-driven, nonprofit marketplace controlled by elite professionals. Even the funding allocated for CoC programs, though nominally in the billions, is deliberately minimal. This scarcity forces competition, instability, and suffering among poor people. Nonprofit executives, most of whom depend on federal contracts and foundation dollars, rarely challenge the economic and political structures that produce homelessness. Accountability rhetoric replaced structural change, reframing homelessness as an issue of individual behavior rather than a systemic failure. The academy normalized the idea that poor people should suffer, teaching a generation of managers to prioritize markets, metrics, and “innovation” over human need. This bipartisan, university-trained professional class laid the foundation for the HUD cuts now threatening hundreds of thousands of lives.

HUD argues that the new model “restores accountability” and reduces the purported waste of Housing First, but decades of research contradict that claim. Permanent supportive housing reduces chronic homelessness, lowers emergency and policing costs, stabilizes people with disabilities, and is cheaper than institutionalization or shelters. Transitional housing with mandatory compliance, on the other hand, repeatedly pushes people back to the streets, disproportionately harms people with disabilities, increases mortality, inflates administrative costs, and creates churn rather than stability. The policy is not a mistake; it reflects the calculated priorities of an elite managerial class whose worldview demands austerity for the poor while allowing them to flourish materially.

The response in Washington has been striking. Forty-two Senate Democrats warned HUD that the shift violates the McKinney-Vento Act, undermines local decision-making, and rejects decades of federally funded research. Even twenty House Republicans urged careful implementation to avoid destabilizing services for seniors and disabled people. Yet decades of neoliberal policymaking—funded and legitimized by universities, foundations, and think tanks—have already created a system in which poverty and suffering are baked into federal policy. This latest HUD action simply codifies that worldview.

The crisis unfolding now is not just the product of Trump’s ideological war on Housing First. It is the logical endpoint of decades of privatization, the erosion of public housing, elite consensus around austerity, credentialed managerialism, the nonprofit-industrial complex, the foundation-university revolving door, and the belief—deeply embedded in higher education—that markets and metrics should govern everything. Many of these policymakers and nonprofit executives own multiple homes, refuse to pay taxes, and structure federal policy to ensure the poor remain dependent, unstable, and suffering. The people most directly harmed are those with the least political power: disabled people, elderly tenants, veterans, people with serious mental illness, women fleeing violence, and families trying to survive an economy that no longer works for them. Behind them stands a class of educated neoliberals who built the systems that made this outcome possible, often congratulating themselves for “innovation” while allowing misery to proliferate. This is not failure. This is design.

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Sources:

• Politico, “HUD to Cut Permanent Housing Funding for Homeless Programs,” 2025.

• National Alliance to End Homelessness, internal HUD funding documents, 2025.

• Ann Oliva, National Alliance to End Homelessness, statements to POLITICO, 2025.

• McKinney-Vento Homeless Assistance Act, 1987.

• HUD Notice of Funding Opportunity, 2026 Continuum of Care Program.

• Executive Order: “Ending Crime and Disorder on America’s Streets,” White House, 2025.

Education Dept. Accused of Blocking Student Loan Forgiveness: A Systemic Failure

The American Federation of Teachers (AFT) has filed an amended complaint against the U.S. Department of Education and Secretary Linda McMahon, seeking class action status on behalf of millions of borrowers. The lawsuit alleges that the Department is unlawfully delaying or denying student loan forgiveness under income-driven repayment (IDR) and Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF).

On paper, this is a fight about administrative backlogs and program freezes. In reality, it exposes how the U.S. higher education system continues to operate as a debt trap, where promises of relief are routinely broken, and working families are forced to subsidize a predatory credential economy.

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Debt as a Business Model

The Department of Education froze IDR processing for months, building a backlog that once stood at more than two million borrowers. Even after “restarting” the system, more than a million remain stuck. PSLF’s “Buyback” program alone is stalled with 74,000 unresolved cases.

These are not small bureaucratic hiccups—they are structural features of a system designed to delay cancellation for as long as possible. Borrowers who have made 20, 25, or even 30 years of payments are told to keep paying while they wait for forgiveness that may never come. Refunds are promised but often months away. Meanwhile, loan servicers continue to collect billions in revenue from a population already ground down by decades of repayment.

This isn’t simply mismanagement. It’s debt peonage, engineered by policymakers who present repayment as a civic duty while ensuring that the cycle of indebtedness continues.

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The Human Cost

The lawsuit documents borrowers choosing between student loan payments and medical care, postponing life decisions like marriage or homeownership, and even contemplating bankruptcy. Beyond the financial harm, there is profound psychological damage—stress, sleeplessness, and a deepening sense of betrayal by a government that promised relief in exchange for decades of faithful repayment.

The looming “tax bomb” magnifies the crisis. Unless forgiveness is processed before January 1, 2026, discharged balances under IDR will once again be taxable income. That means borrowers who finally achieve cancellation could be hit with crushing IRS bills. Congress has already acted to expand eligibility under the “One Big Beautiful Bill Act,” but the Department continues to deny applications based on rules that no longer exist.

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Historical Parallels: A Long Tradition of Debt Betrayal

The student debt crisis is only the latest in a series of American debt struggles where relief was promised but strategically withheld:

• Farm Debt in the 1980s: Family farmers were told federal programs would help restructure loans. Instead, banks and agencies delayed, forcing foreclosures that devastated rural America.

• The GI Bill’s Unequal Promise: While the GI Bill created new opportunities, Black veterans were systematically denied benefits through local gatekeeping. Access existed in theory but was obstructed in practice.

• The Mortgage Crisis of 2008: Homeowners seeking modifications found banks losing paperwork, delaying applications, and profiting from continued payments—an eerie echo of today’s student loan servicing delays.

Each moment reflects the same pattern: debt relief as rhetoric, obstruction as reality.

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A System Rigged to Fail Workers

The AFT’s legal filing is narrowly focused on the Administrative Procedure Act, accusing the Department of unlawfully withholding benefits and acting arbitrarily. But the larger structural truth is clear: the U.S. economy relies on debt as a mode of governance.

Student debt now exceeds $1.6 trillion. Universities raise tuition, Wall Street profits from securitized loans, and loan servicers pocket fees from keeping borrowers in repayment limbo. Meanwhile, adjunct professors earn poverty wages, and graduates face underemployment that makes repayment impossible. Higher education is no longer a ladder to the middle class—it is a system of extraction.

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Looking Ahead: 2027 and Beyond

Even if courts intervene before the 2026 tax deadline, borrowers face another looming threat: the 2027 austerity cuts, including deep reductions in Medicaid.

For working families, this collision will be devastating. Many borrowers already choose between student loan payments and medical care. When Medicaid cuts hit, tens of millions will lose access to basic health coverage. The financial vise will tighten: loan payments on one side, healthcare costs on the other. The most vulnerable—low-income borrowers, caregivers, the disabled—will be left with no safety net.

In this light, the Department’s refusal to process loan forgiveness is not just bureaucratic delay. It is part of a broader austerity regime that disciplines workers through debt, strips away public benefits, and reinforces a permanent underclass of the indebted.

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What’s at Stake

The AFT is asking the courts to compel the Department to process long-overdue discharges. Hearings are expected this fall, with a ruling possible before year’s end. But even if the courts side with borrowers, the deeper crisis remains: a political economy that treats debt not as a temporary burden but as a permanent condition of American life.

For borrowers, this case is about more than loan forgiveness. It is about whether the U.S. will continue its long tradition of promising relief while delivering betrayal—or whether working families will finally break the cycle of debt dependency before the coming wave of austerity in 2027 makes it even harder to escape.

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Sources

• American Federation of Teachers, Amended Complaint Against Department of Education (2025)

• U.S. Department of Education, IDR and PSLF Program Guidance

• The College Investor, “Education Dept. Accused of Blocking Student Loan Forgiveness” (2025)

• Michael Hudson, Killing the Host (2015)

• Maurizio Lazzarato, The Making of the Indebted Man (2012)

• Elizabeth Warren, The Two-Income Trap (2003)

• Bruce J. Schulman, The Seventies (2001)

The Link Between Greed and Efficiency

In the mythology of American capitalism, “efficiency” is the magic word that justifies austerity for workers, rising tuition for students, and ever-expanding wealth for administrators, financiers, and institutional elites. It is framed as neutral, technocratic, and rational. In reality, efficiency in higher education has become inseparable from greed, functioning as a mask for extraction and consolidation.

Universities and their sprawling medical centers have become some of the largest landowners and employers in the cities they inhabit. As Devarian Baldwin has shown, these institutions operate as urban empires, expanding aggressively into surrounding neighborhoods, raising housing costs, displacing long-time residents, and reshaping cities to suit institutional priorities. University medical centers, nominally nonprofit, consolidate smaller hospitals, close services deemed unprofitable, and charge some of the highest healthcare prices in the nation. These operations are justified as efficiency or economic development, yet they often destabilize the communities they claim to serve.

Endowments, some exceeding fifty billion dollars at elite institutions, have become central to this dynamic. Managed like hedge funds, these pools of capital are heavily invested in private equity, venture capital, real estate, and derivatives. The financial logic of endowment management now shapes university priorities, shifting focus from public service and learning to capital accumulation, investor returns, and risk management. Efficiency is defined not by educational outcomes but by the growth of financial assets.

This culture of extraction has been amplified by decades of government austerity. Public funding for higher education has steadily declined since the 1980s, forcing institutions to behave like corporations. At the same time, the aging Baby Boomer generation is creating unprecedented financial pressures on Social Security, Medicare, and healthcare systems, leaving public coffers stretched thin and reinforcing a winner-take-all national mentality. In this environment, universities compete fiercely for students, research dollars, donors, and prestige, producing conditions ripe for exploitation.

Outsourcing has become a standard method to achieve “efficiency.” Universities frequently contract out food service, custodial work, IT, housing management, and security. Workers employed by these contractors often face lower wages, fewer benefits, and higher turnover, while administrators present these arrangements as cost-saving measures. Meanwhile, administrative layers within institutions continue to expand, creating a managerial class that oversees growth and strategy while teaching budgets shrink. As Marc Bousquet has argued, the corporate-style management model displaces faculty governance and treats students and staff as revenue streams rather than participants in a shared educational mission.

The adjunctification of the faculty exemplifies efficiency as exploitation. Contingent instructors now teach the majority of classes in American higher education, earning poverty-level wages without benefits while juggling multiple teaching sites. Institutions call this “flexibility” and “cost containment,” but in reality it transfers value from instruction to administrative overhead, athletics, real estate, and financial operations, all while reducing the quality of education and undermining academic continuity.

The rise of Online Program Managers, or OPMs, further illustrates the fusion of greed and efficiency. These companies design, manage, and market entire online degree programs, often taking forty to seventy percent of tuition revenue. While presented as efficiency partners, OPMs aggressively recruit students, inflate costs, and minimize academic oversight. Their business model mirrors the exploitative strategies of for-profit colleges, which pioneered high-cost, low-quality instruction combined with heavy marketing to capture federal loan dollars. The collapse of chains such as Corinthian, ITT, and EDMC left millions of borrowers with debt and no degree, yet the model persists inside nonprofit universities through OPMs and algorithm-driven online programs.

“Robocolleges” represent the latest evolution of this trend. AI-driven instruction, predictive analytics, automated grading, and digital tutoring promise unprecedented efficiency, but they often replace human educators, reduce pedagogical oversight, exploit student data, and prioritize enrollment growth over educational quality. Efficiency here serves the financial bottom line rather than the learning or well-being of students.

The result of these extractive practices is a national crisis of student debt, now exceeding one trillion dollars. Students borrow to cover skyrocketing tuition, outsourced services, underpaid instruction, and the costs of programs shaped by OPMs or automated platforms. Debt is not an accident of the system; it is the intended outcome, a mechanism for transferring public resources and student labor into private profit.

The broader social context intensifies the problem. Higher education exists in a winner-take-all, financialized society, where resources flow upward and the majority of people are told to compete harder, work longer, and borrow more. Universities have internalized this ideology, acting as both symbols and engines of extraction. Efficiency, under this paradigm, is defined not by the effectiveness of teaching or research but by the expansion of institutional power, wealth, and influence.

True efficiency would look very different. It would invest in educators rather than contractors, stabilize academic labor rather than exploit it, serve surrounding communities rather than displace them, expand learning opportunities rather than debt, and prioritize democratic governance over corporate-style hierarchy. Efficiency should measure how well institutions serve the public good, not how well they protect endowment returns, OPM profits, or administrative salaries.

Until such a redefinition occurs, efficiency will remain one of the most powerful tools of extraction in American higher education, a rhetorical justification for greed disguised as rational management.

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Sources

Devarian Baldwin, In the Shadow of the Ivory Tower
Marc Bousquet, How the University Works
Tressie McMillan Cottom, Lower Ed
Christopher Newfield, The Great Mistake
Sara Goldrick-Rab, Paying the Price
Government reports on for-profit colleges, student debt, and OPMs
Research on higher education financialization, outsourcing, and austerity policies

The Chicago School of Economics: A Political Takeover Masquerading as Science

For decades, the Chicago School of Economics has been held up by its adherents as the intellectual engine behind “free market” policies—its faculty lionized, its ideology exported, its disciples placed in positions of power across the globe. But beneath the polished veneer of economic modeling and Nobel prizes lies something far more insidious: not a neutral scientific project, but a political takeover cloaked in the language of rationality.

The Chicago School—rooted in the University of Chicago’s Department of Economics and typified by figures like Milton Friedman, George Stigler, and Gary Becker—has long promoted the idea that markets are efficient, individuals are rational actors, and government interference should be minimal. Its tools are equations; its products are policies. But the effects of those policies—deregulation, privatization, austerity, and corporate tax cuts—reveal a consistent political orientation: upward wealth redistribution and consolidation of power among the elite.

This isn’t science. It’s sophistry.

A “Science” That Can’t Predict

Unlike the physical sciences, economics—particularly the Chicago School strain—has failed spectacularly at prediction. It didn’t anticipate the global financial crash of 2008. It didn’t predict the collapse of neoliberal development models in Latin America, Russia, or post-invasion Iraq. What it has done, instead, is offer intellectual cover for policies that have made the global economy less stable and more unequal.

If this were biology or engineering, the repeated failures would warrant rethinking the entire theoretical framework. But Chicago-style economics survives because it is not held accountable by the standards of real science. It is propped up by billionaire-funded think tanks, right-wing political operatives, and a compliant media machine that prizes certainty over complexity.

Crisis as a Feature, Not a Bug

The most telling feature of the Chicago School is its acceptance—even embrace—of financial collapse. To these economists, crises are inevitable market “corrections,” moments of creative destruction that supposedly cleanse inefficiencies. But these corrections always seem to fall hardest on workers, the poor, and the public sector.

When the crashes come, the Chicago School has a solution: public bailouts for private failure. In 2008, the banks that tanked the economy were rescued with taxpayer money. Airlines, oil companies, and private equity firms have enjoyed the same perks during subsequent downturns. Risk is privatized during booms and socialized during busts. This is not market discipline. It’s a revolving door between state and capital, justified by the rhetorical sleight-of-hand of “market efficiency.”

Disciples Without Scrutiny

Graduates of the Chicago School populate central banks, finance ministries, and international institutions like the IMF and World Bank. In countries from Chile under Pinochet to post-Soviet Russia, these “experts” imposed shock therapy on fragile societies—cutting public services, smashing unions, and opening markets to foreign capital. The human cost has been immense: hunger, homelessness, reduced life expectancy, and lost sovereignty.

And yet, because the ideology is couched in the technocratic language of “growth” and “efficiency,” it is rarely scrutinized in mainstream discourse. As the sociologist Philip Mirowski has argued, neoliberal economists effectively launder ideology through the language of science. They wear lab coats, but they serve oligarchs.

Higher Education as a Host

Higher education didn’t just incubate this ideology; it exported it. Endowed chairs, corporate-funded centers, and prestigious lecture circuits have made Chicago School economists wealthy and powerful. Institutions like the Hoover Institution, the Cato Institute, and the American Enterprise Institute have amplified their ideas while silencing dissent. Critical perspectives—Marxist, feminist, ecological—have been marginalized or defunded in economics departments across the U.S. and much of the Global North.

Meanwhile, public universities struggling for funding have adopted Chicago-style managerial logic: metrics over mission, ROI over learning, adjuncts over tenure. The logic of the market has colonized the classroom.

The Ideology of the Empire

Chicago School economics has become the lingua franca of empire. It rationalizes austerity, justifies tax havens, normalizes poverty, and sanctifies inequality. It tells working people that if they’re poor, they must be irrational. It tells governments to balance budgets, not lives. It tells universities to behave like hedge funds.

The project is not just intellectual—it is political. And its time is up.

In a world facing climate collapse, runaway inequality, and democratic backsliding, we must recognize Chicago economics for what it is: not a neutral science but a strategic takeover. A theology of markets with no god but capital, no law but competition, and no justice but profit.

It cannot predict. It does not prevent. And it refuses to be held accountable.

Let us end the charade.

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Sources:

• Philip Mirowski, Never Let a Serious Crisis Go to Waste (2013)

• Naomi Klein, The Shock Doctrine (2007)

• Quinn Slobodian, Globalists: The End of Empire and the Birth of Neoliberalism (2018)

• Robert Kuttner, Debtors’ Prison (2013)

• David Graeber, Debt: The First 5000 Years (2011)

For more critical investigations into political economy and higher education, visit Higher Education Inquirer.

How the 940-Page Senate Bill Accelerates the College Meltdown

In the midst of economic uncertainty, demographic decline, and ballooning student debt, the U.S. Senate has introduced a 940-page spending and tax reconciliation bill—dubbed by some lawmakers as the “One Big Beautiful Bill Act.” But behind the political branding lies a sweeping blueprint for disinvestment in working-class Americans, especially in higher education. If passed, the bill would not only accelerate the ongoing College Meltdown—it would codify it.

Slashing the Ladder: Pell Grant Restrictions

At the heart of the bill is a deceptively simple change: redefining full-time college attendance from 12 credits per semester to 15 credits. This shift may sound technical, but its consequences are enormous.

According to the Congressional Budget Office and the National Association of Student Financial Aid Administrators (NASFAA), this new definition would result in more than 4.4 million Pell Grant recipients receiving either reduced aid or losing eligibility entirely. An estimated 1.4 million students—mostly community college attendees, part-time students, older learners, and single parents—could lose access to Pell Grants altogether.

In a nation already grappling with declining college enrollments and rising student attrition, these changes will likely push thousands more out of the system and close the door for many before they ever step into a classroom.

Medicaid, SNAP, and the Vanishing Safety Net

Higher education does not exist in a vacuum. The Senate bill proposes more than $930 billion in cuts to Medicaid over the next decade. These cuts come alongside the imposition of work requirements and cost-sharing mandates that will affect millions of low-income Americans—including a significant share of college students.

Many students depend on Medicaid for mental health support, primary care, and prescriptions. Others rely on SNAP to eat. Under the proposed legislation, these essential supports would be stripped from the very students who need them to persist in school.

A 2023 GAO report found that over 30 percent of U.S. college students experience food or housing insecurity. This bill doesn’t just ignore that crisis—it actively worsens it.

Starving Public Colleges

The federal Medicaid cuts would ripple through state budgets, forcing legislatures to make difficult decisions. In many cases, that will mean diverting funds away from public higher education systems.

Already under strain from declining enrollment and years of austerity, public colleges—especially regional universities and community colleges—would face even deeper cuts. The likely result: tuition increases, faculty layoffs, program closures, and the elimination of student services.

In effect, the bill shifts the cost burden of public education from the collective public to individual students and families, reinforcing a model of privatized risk and public abandonment.

Loans Over Grants, Profits Over People

In parallel with Pell Grant restrictions, the bill unwinds critical student loan protections put in place over the last five years. It reverses enhancements to Income-Driven Repayment (IDR) plans and proposes the elimination of Biden-era loan forgiveness programs.

These changes benefit the student loan servicing industry, which stands to profit from lengthened repayment timelines and reduced cancellation pathways. Meanwhile, borrowers—especially those from low-income backgrounds—are pushed deeper into long-term debt peonage.

For a generation already saddled with debt and entering a labor market rife with instability, the Senate bill amounts to a massive wealth transfer upward—from struggling students to banks and servicers.

Enabling the Rise of Robocolleges

The weakening of financial aid and public support creates fertile ground for low-cost, low-quality alternatives: online diploma mills, edtech credential vendors, and "robocolleges" that replace faculty with algorithms.

Without adequate Pell funding or public college access, desperate students will be more likely to fall into the traps of for-profit institutions and unaccredited providers that promise quick credentials—but often deliver worthless degrees and predatory loans.

This shift doesn’t just hurt students. It undermines the quality of the U.S. workforce, degrades academic labor, and cedes the future of education to automation and private equity.

A Future for the Few

Ultimately, the “One Big Beautiful Bill” cements a two-tiered higher education system: elite universities insulated by billion-dollar endowments, and a gutted public sector limping along under austerity, privatization, and surveillance.

It is no coincidence that these policies are being introduced as the population ages, racial and economic inequality deepens, and faith in democratic institutions erodes. Higher education, once framed as a ladder of mobility, is becoming a narrow gangplank—offering escape only to the few who can afford it.

Meltdown Legislation 

The College Meltdown is no longer a slow decline. It’s being legislated into crisis.

If passed, the Senate’s 940-page bill would mark a turning point: a systemic dismantling of the supports that make higher education possible for working-class Americans. From financial aid to public health, from state colleges to community safety nets, the tools of educational access are being hollowed out by design.

And while elite donors and legislators continue to fund their own children's paths to Princeton and Stanford, millions of other Americans will be left out—again.

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Sources:

• NASFAA: Pell Grant Aid Analysis

• Congressional Budget Office (CBO) Medicaid Cut Estimates

• Inside Higher Ed: “Community Colleges Fear Pell Changes”

• GAO Report: “Food and Housing Insecurity Among College Students”

• Brookings Institution: “Cuts to the Social Safety Net and the Future of Higher Education”

The US Government Shutdown: "Let Them Eat Cheese"

The stock market is up. Politicians beam on cable news about “economic resilience.” But on the ground, the picture looks very different. Jobs are scarce or unstable, rents keep rising, and food insecurity is back to 1980s levels. The government shutdown has hit federal workers, SNAP recipients, and service programs for the poor and disabled. And what does Washington offer the hungry? Cheese—literally and metaphorically.

Government cheese once symbolized a broken welfare system—a processed product handed out to the desperate while politicians preached self-reliance. Today’s version is digital and disembodied: food banks filled with castoffs, online portals for benefits that don’t come, “relief” programs that require a master’s degree to navigate. People are told to be grateful while they wait in line for what little is left.

Meanwhile, the headlines celebrate record-breaking stock prices and defense contracts. Billions flow abroad to Argentina, Ukraine, and Israel—especially Israel, where U.S. aid underwrites weapons used in what many describe as genocide in Palestine. Corporate media downplay it, politicians justify it, and dissenters are told they’re unpatriotic.

In the U.S., the old cry of “personal responsibility” masks the reality of neoliberal economics—a system that privatizes profit and socializes pain. When the government shuts down, it’s the poor who feel it first. The “educated underclass”—graduates burdened by debt, adjuncts working without benefits, laid-off professionals—are just a few missed paychecks away from standing in the same line for government cheese.

Yet many Americans don’t see who the real enemy is. They turn on one another—Democrats versus Republicans, urban versus rural, native-born versus immigrant—while the architects of austerity watch from gated communities. The spectacle distracts from the structural theft: trillions transferred upward, democracy traded for debt, justice sold to the highest bidder.

“Let them eat cheese” is no longer a historical joke. It’s the bipartisan message of a political class that rewards Wall Street while abandoning Main Street. And as long as the public stays divided, hungry, and distracted, the pantry of power remains locked.

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Sources

• U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA). “Household Food Insecurity in the United States in 2024.”

• Gary Roth. "The Educated Underclass." 

• Congressional Budget Office (CBO). “Economic Effects of a Government Shutdown.”

• Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis. “Wealth Inequality and Stock Market Concentration.”

• The Intercept. “How U.S. Weapons and Aid Fuel the Assault on Gaza.”

• Associated Press. “Food Banks Report Record Demand Amid Inflation.”

• Jacobin Magazine. “Neoliberalism and the Return of American Austerity.”

• Reuters. “U.S. Sends Billions in Loans and Aid to Argentina.”

• Economic Policy Institute (EPI). “Wage Stagnation and the Cost of Living Crisis.”

US House Passes Massive Spending and Tax Bill: Austerity for the Poor, Windfalls for the Rich

In the early hours of May 22nd, the U.S. House of Representatives narrowly passed H.R. 1, the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, a sprawling 1,100-page reconciliation package reflecting the policy priorities of the Trump administration and the Republican-led Congress. The vote was 215-214, with two Republicans joining all Democrats in opposition.

Marketed as a spending and tax overhaul, H.R. 1 delivers sweeping cuts to social safety net programs while providing substantial tax breaks for high-income households and corporations. The result: an estimated $4 trillion increase in the national debt and a federal deficit projected to rise by $230 billion annually, or roughly 10%.

A Bill Few Have Read, Pushed Through at Lightning Speed

Despite its magnitude, the final text of the bill was released just hours before the vote, after a 1 a.m. session of the House Rules Committee added a 42-page “manager’s amendment” that made major last-minute changes. The rushed timeline has left lawmakers, watchdogs, and the public scrambling to understand what exactly was passed.

Slashing the Safety Net, Bolstering Security and the Wealthy

Among the most significant impacts of the bill:

• Deep cuts to SNAP and Medicaid, achieved through both reduced funding and stricter eligibility requirements.

• Increased spending for the military, border wall construction, immigration enforcement, and detention facilities, offsetting about half of the domestic cuts.

• Tax changes that disproportionately harm low-income Americans while rewarding the wealthy, including restoration of the full state and local tax (SALT) deduction, which benefits high earners in high-tax states.

According to a Congressional Budget Office (CBO) analysis, the bill will reduce “household resources”—including wages and federal benefits—by roughly 4% for the lowest-income households, while increasing them by a similar margin for the highest-income groups.

Ideological Riders: Culture War Embedded in Fiscal Policy

Tucked into the bill are provisions that go far beyond fiscal policy:

• Repeals of green energy initiatives and funding.

• A nationwide ban on gender-affirming care—not just for minors but for adults as well.

• A ban on abortion services.

• A clause limiting the federal judiciary’s ability to enforce court orders against the government, raising serious constitutional concerns.

These inclusions push the boundaries of what’s traditionally allowed in a reconciliation bill, which is supposed to be restricted to tax and spending measures.

Senate Showdown Ahead—Rules May Be Bent or Broken

The bill now heads to the Senate, where reconciliation rules technically shield it from the filibuster if its provisions are deemed budget-related. But those rules are under threat. Recent moves by the Senate—such as passing Congressional Review Act legislation in defiance of the Parliamentarian—suggest that Republican leadership may ignore or override procedural norms to push the bill through.

If H.R. 1 becomes law in its current form, it will represent one of the most radical rewritings of federal priorities in decades—tilting the scales toward militarization and wealth concentration while gutting public health programs and civil liberties.

Implications for Higher Education

While higher education is not directly targeted in the bill’s text—at least as far as early reviews can tell—the implications are ominous. Cuts to Medicaid and SNAP will harm low-income students who depend on those programs. Restrictive immigration and gender policies may force colleges into legal and ethical battles. And the bill’s broader austerity measures signal an era in which public institutions, already under stress, may face even deeper disinvestment.

As always, the devil is in the details. But for now, those details remain elusive—locked in a bill few have read and rushed through in the dead of night.

The Mis-education of Global Elites

For generations, global elites have been positioned—socially, politically, financially—as the people best equipped to shape a better world. They have had the resources to eliminate poverty, curb climate catastrophe, restrain war, expand healthcare, reform universities, and make democratic participation meaningful. Instead, the world they have built is defined by widening inequality, ecological collapse, and a global crisis of legitimacy. Their failure is not accidental. It is the product of a profound mis-education: a system that trains elites not in stewardship or solidarity, but in domination, extraction, and self-preservation.

Across the United States, the U.K., Europe, and increasingly the Gulf States and East Asia, elite education has become a finishing school for rulers rather than a training ground for genuine public servants. These institutions—rich in endowment, selective in admission, steeped in prestige—construct worldviews that normalize inequity as efficiency, privatization as innovation, and austerity as necessity. Instead of interrogating the historical and structural forces that produce suffering, elite curricula often neutralize them, reducing political economy to management science and social justice to branding.

This mis-education manifests in global leadership failures. The same graduates who enter parliaments, presidential cabinets, central banks, multinational boards, and international NGOs routinely oversee policies that accelerate inequality and erode the public sphere. Many come from universities with unparalleled research capacity and moral rhetoric, yet preside over housing crises, medical debt catastrophes, and planetary degradation. They authorize wars but rarely experience them. They tout meritocracy while gatekeeping opportunity. They celebrate entrepreneurship while dismantling public goods. Their philanthropic initiatives—often built from profits derived through tax avoidance, monopolization, and labor exploitation—give the appearance of benevolence without altering the underlying systems of harm.

Carter G. Woodson’s warning in The Mis-education of the Negro echoes eerily here: “When you control a man's thinking you do not have to worry about his actions.” Global elites, educated into a narrow ideology that glorifies markets and hierarchy, do not need to be coerced into maintaining destructive systems—they do so voluntarily, believing themselves enlightened.

Nowhere is this clearer than in the corporate education complex itself. Elite universities produce the analysts who rationalize austerity, the managers who coordinate privatization, the consultants who reengineer public institutions to mimic corporations, and the financiers who define the metrics of success. They also cultivate the ideological insulation that shields elites from accountability. When their policies trigger chaos, the explanation is never structural, only technical: markets corrected, externalities emerged, populists disrupted stability. The mis-education of elites ensures they cannot see failure as their own.

Global institutions—from the IMF and World Bank to the UN and WTO—have mirrored this mindset. Their leaders, mostly trained in the same corridors of prestige, have promoted development models that prioritize capital mobility over community well-being, and foreign investment over local sovereignty. Even when faced with overwhelming evidence that structural adjustment, privatized healthcare, or financialization intensify human suffering, the elite worldview persists. The inability—or unwillingness—to imagine alternative systems is not an intellectual deficiency but the logical outcome of an education designed to reproduce power, not challenge it.

Meanwhile, those most affected by global crises—workers, migrants, debtors, students, the poor—are told to adapt, innovate, or sacrifice. They are bombarded with entrepreneurial rhetoric and resilience talk while their material conditions worsen. Political leaders lament social fragmentation but continue to funnel wealth upward. University administrators speak of inclusion while expanding administrative hierarchies and outsourcing labor. Energy executives promise transitions while drilling new pipelines. Tech CEOs warn about misinformation while building the infrastructure that spreads it.

The result is a world where the legitimacy of elites is evaporating. From Santiago to Paris, Lagos to Minneapolis, Delhi to London, mass movements are demanding accountability from institutions that have proven incapable of self-reform. The global backlash against inequality, authoritarianism, and corporate hegemony is not a misunderstanding—it is a recognition that the systems run by elites have failed.

If there is to be a better world, the mis-education of elites must be confronted directly. That means transforming the mission of universities from prestige accumulation to public purpose; replacing managerialism with democratic governance; centering histories of resistance rather than merely histories of empire; teaching economic justice instead of market worship; and training leaders who measure success not by shareholder value or rankings but by human flourishing.

Elites have long claimed exclusive expertise in solving the world’s problems. They have had centuries—and trillions—to prove it. They have failed miserably. A new generation of thinkers, activists, workers, and communities is already building the alternatives. Whether global elites choose to learn from them—or continue along their well-worn path of extraction and denial—will determine the next century.

For now, the record is clear: the institutions that shaped the world’s most powerful people were never designed to create justice. And they haven’t.

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Academic Sources

Baldwin, Davarian L. In the Shadow of the Ivory Tower: How Universities Are Plundering Our Cities. Bold Type Books, 2021.
Bourdieu, Pierre. The State Nobility: Elite Schools in the Field of Power. Stanford University Press, 1996.
Giroux, Henry A. Neoliberalism's War on Higher Education. Haymarket Books, 2014.
Harvey, David. A Brief History of Neoliberalism. Oxford University Press, 2005.
Khan, Shamus Rahman. Privilege: The Making of an Adolescent Elite at St. Paul’s School. Princeton University Press, 2011.
Mills, C. Wright. The Power Elite. Oxford University Press, 1956.
Mkandawire, Thandika. “Institutional Monocropping and Monotasking in Africa.” UNRISD, 2007.
Piketty, Thomas. Capital and Ideology. Harvard University Press, 2020.
Saul, John Ralston. Voltaire’s Bastards: The Dictatorship of Reason in the West. Free Press, 1992.
Sklair, Leslie. The Transnational Capitalist Class. Wiley-Blackwell, 2000.
Stiglitz, Joseph E. Globalization and Its Discontents Revisited. W.W. Norton, 2017.
Woodson, Carter G. The Mis-education of the Negro. Associated Publishers, 1933.