Can College Presidents Tell Us the Truth?

“Truth? You can’t handle the truth!” Jack Nicholson’s Colonel Jessup in A Few Good Men captures the tension at the heart of American higher education: can college presidents confront veritas—the deep, sometimes uncomfortable truths about their institutions—or will they hide behind prestige, endowments, and comforting illusions?

At the foundation of academia lies veritas, Latin for truth or truthfulness, derived from verus, “true” or “trustworthy.” Veritas is not optional decoration on a university crest; it is a moral and intellectual obligation. Yet 2025 reveals a system where veritas is too often sidelined: institutions obscure financial mismanagement, exploit adjunct faculty, overburden students with debt, and misrepresent outcomes to the public.

The Higher Education Inquirer (HEI) embodies veritas in action. In “Ahead of the Learned Herd: Why the Higher Education Inquirer Grows During the Endless College Meltdown,” HEI demonstrates that truth-telling can thrive outside corporate funding or advertising. By reporting enrollment collapses, adjunct exploitation, and predatory for-profit practices, HEI holds institutions accountable to veritas, exposing what many university leaders hope will remain invisible.

Leadership failures are a direct affront to veritas. “Scam Artist or Just Failed CEO?” scrutinizes former 2U CEO Christopher “Chip” Paucek, revealing misleading enrollment tactics and financial mismanagement that serve elite universities more than consumers. These corporate-style decisions in a higher education setting betray the very principle of veritas, prioritizing appearance and profit over educational integrity and human outcomes.

Student journalism amplifies veritas further. Through Campus Beat, student reporters uncover tuition hikes, censorship, and labor abuses, demonstrating that veritas does not belong only to administrators—it belongs to those who seek to document reality, often at personal and professional risk.

Economic and political realities also test veritas. In “Trumpenomics: The Emperor Has No Clothes,” HEI exposes how hollow economic reforms enrich a few while leaving the majority behind. Academia mirrors this pattern: when prestige is elevated over substance, veritas is discarded in favor of illusion, leaving students and faculty to bear the consequences.

Structural crisis continues. In “College Meltdown Fall 2025,” HEI documents federal oversight erosion, AI-saturated classrooms with rampant academic misconduct, rising student debt, and mass layoffs. To honor veritas, leaders would confront these crises transparently, but too often they choose comforting narratives instead.

Debt remains one of the clearest tests of institutional veritas. HEI’s “The Student Loan Mess: Next Chapters” shows how trillions in student loans have become instruments of social control. The Sweet v. McMahon borrower defense cases illustrate bureaucratic inertia and opacity, directly challenging the principles of veritas as thousands of debtors await relief that is slow, incomplete, and inconsistently applied.

Predatory enrollment practices further undermine veritas. Lead generators, documented by HEI, exploit student information to drive enrollment into high-cost, low-value programs, prioritizing revenue over truth, clarity, and student welfare. “College Prospects, College Targets” exposes how prospective students are commodified, turning veritas into a casualty of marketing algorithms.

Through all of this, HEI itself stands as a living testament to veritas. Surpassing one million views in July 2025, it proves that the public demands accountability, clarity, and honesty in higher education. Veritas resonates—when pursued rigorously, it illuminates failures, inspires reform, and empowers communities.

The question remains: can college presidents handle veritas—the unflinching truth about student debt, labor exploitation, mismanagement, and declining institutional legitimacy? If they cannot, they forfeit moral and public authority. Veritas is not optional; it is the standard by which institutions must be measured, defended, and lived.

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Sources

• Calling All Campus Reporters: Help Us Tell the Truth

• Trumpenomics: The Emperor Has No Clothes

• HEI Resources Fall 2025

• College Meltdown Fall 2025

• Why the Higher Education Inquirer Continues

• Higher Education Inquirer Surpasses 1 Million Views

• Scam Artist or Just Failed CEO?

• Lead Generators in Higher Education

• The Student Loan Mess: Next Chapters

• Sweet

• Elite University Presidents: Most Hated Men (and Women) on Campus

• Elite Universities on Lockdown. Protestors Regroup.

The Right-Wing Roots of EdTech

The modern EdTech industry is often portrayed as a neutral, innovative force, but its origins are deeply political. Its growth has been fueled by a fusion of neoliberal economics, right-wing techno-utopianism, patriarchy, and classism, reinforced by racialized inequality. One of the key intellectual architects of this vision was George Gilder, a conservative supply-side evangelist whose work glorified technology and markets as liberating forces. His influence helped pave the way for the “Gilder Effect”: a reshaping of education into a market where technology, finance, and ideology collide, often at the expense of marginalized students and workers.

The for-profit college boom provides the clearest demonstration of how the Gilder Effect operates. John Sperling’s University of Phoenix, later run by executives like Todd Nelson, was engineered as a credential factory, funded by federal student aid and Wall Street. Its model was then exported across the sector, including Risepoint (formerly Academic Partnerships), a company that sold universities on revenue-sharing deals for online programs. These ventures disproportionately targeted working-class women, single mothers, military veterans, and Black and Latino students. The model was not accidental—it was designed to exploit populations with the least generational wealth and the most limited alternatives. Here, patriarchy, classism, and racism intersected: students from marginalized backgrounds were marketed promises of upward mobility but instead left with debt, unstable credentials, and limited job prospects.

Clayton Christensen and Michael Horn of Harvard Business School popularized the concept of “disruption,” providing a respectable academic justification for dismantling public higher education. Their theory of disruptive innovation framed traditional universities as outdated and made way for venture-capital-backed intermediaries. Yet this rhetoric concealed a brutal truth: disruption worked not by empowering the disadvantaged but by extracting value from them, often reinforcing existing inequalities of race, gender, and class.

The rise and collapse of 2U shows how this ideology plays out. Founded in 2008, 2U promised to bring elite universities online, selling the dream of access to graduate degrees for working professionals. Its “flywheel effect” growth strategy relied on massive enrollment expansion and unsustainable spending. Despite raising billions, the company never turned a profit. Its high-profile acquisition of edX from Harvard and MIT only deepened its financial instability. When 2U filed for bankruptcy, it was not simply a corporate failure—it was a symptom of an entire system built on hype and dispossession.

2U also became notorious for its workplace practices. In 2015, it faced a pregnancy discrimination lawsuit after firing an enrollment director who disclosed her pregnancy. Women workers, especially mothers, were treated as expendable, a reflection of patriarchal corporate norms. Meanwhile, many front-line employees—disproportionately women and people of color—faced surveillance, low wages, and impossible sales quotas. Here the intersections of race, gender, and class were not incidental but central to the business model. The company extracted labor from marginalized workers while selling an educational dream to marginalized students, creating a cycle of exploitation at both ends of the pipeline.

Financialization extended these dynamics. Lenders like Sallie Mae and Navient, and servicers like Maximus, turned students into streams of revenue, with Student Loan Asset-Backed Securities (SLABS) trading debt obligations on Wall Street. Universities, including Purdue Global and University of Arizona Global, rebranded failing for-profits as “public” ventures, but their revenue-driven practices remained intact. These arrangements consistently offloaded risk onto working-class students, especially women and students of color, while enriching executives and investors.

The Gilder Effect, then, is not just about technology or efficiency. It is about reshaping higher education into a site of extraction, where the burdens of debt and labor fall hardest on those already disadvantaged by patriarchy, classism, and racism. Intersectionality reveals what the industry’s boosters obscure: EdTech has not democratized education but has deepened inequality. The failure of 2U and the persistence of predatory for-profit models are not accidents—they are the logical outcome of an ideological project rooted in conservative economics and systemic oppression.

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Sources

• EdSurge. “What a New Strategy at 2U Means for the Future of Online Higher Education.” August 5, 2022. https://www.edsurge.com/news/2022-08-05-what-a-new-strategy-at-2u-means-for-the-future-of-online-higher-education

• Newswire. “2U Faces Lawsuit for Pregnancy Discrimination.” June 2015. https://www.newswire.com/news/2u-faces-lawsuit-for-pregnancy-discrimination

• Christensen, Clayton M. and Michael B. Horn. Disrupting Class. McGraw-Hill, 2008.

• McMillan Cottom, Tressie. Lower Ed: The Troubling Rise of For-Profit Colleges in the New Economy. The New Press, 2017.

• Cellini, Stephanie Riegg. “For-Profit Higher Education: An Assessment of Costs and Benefits.” National Bureau of Economic Research, 2012.

• Rosenthal, Elisabeth. An American Sickness. Penguin, 2017.

From Philosophy to Sophistry: Why Critical Thinking Matters More Than Ever

Today, we are witnessing a troubling inversion in thought: philosophy—the love of wisdom—is increasingly being displaced by sophistry, rhetoric, and propaganda. What once served as tools for deeper understanding are now too often harnessed to manipulate opinion, defend entrenched power, and obscure reality.

The ancients recognized this danger. Socrates warned against the sophists who sold clever arguments as if they were wisdom itself, teaching young men how to win debates regardless of truth. Plato cautioned that rhetoric untethered from philosophy could become nothing more than flattery and deception. Aristotle, while systematizing rhetoric, insisted it must remain tied to logic and ethics if it was to serve the public good.

But today, these warnings are largely ignored. Rhetoric, unmoored from philosophical foundations, has become a weapon of politics, commerce, and even academia. Universities that once defended philosophy departments as central to a liberal education now shrink or eliminate them, replacing courses in logic and ethics with training in “communications,” “branding,” or “leadership.” The point is no longer truth, but persuasion—often persuasion in service of profit or political expediency.

Propaganda in Higher Education: Then and Now

The problem is not new. During the Cold War, elite universities like Harvard and Stanford became entangled in government propaganda and intelligence work. Research contracts from the Department of Defense and the CIA shaped entire fields, from area studies to behavioral psychology, with the aim of waging ideological war against communism. At Stanford, the Hoover Institution served as a pipeline between academia and Washington, producing research tailored to reinforce Cold War orthodoxy. Students were often unaware that their “objective” curricula were saturated with political agendas.

Corporate influence has also long steered academic knowledge. At the University of Chicago and Harvard Business School, neoliberal economics became dominant not because it was the most rigorous or humane, but because it was well-funded and aligned with Wall Street interests. Entire generations of business leaders were trained to see deregulation, privatization, and financialization as common sense. Meanwhile, corporations like ExxonMobil and Philip Morris poured millions into universities to shape research downplaying the harms of fossil fuels and tobacco—turning respected labs into propaganda mills under the guise of scientific inquiry.

In the for-profit sector, the University of Phoenix and Kaplan University demonstrated how higher education could be weaponized into pure marketing. Phoenix perfected the art of recruiting vulnerable students with glossy advertising campaigns while leaving many graduates with crushing debt and worthless credentials. Sophistry was not the byproduct of the system; it was the business model.

The Debt Machine as Propaganda

The rise of mass student debt in the U.S. is perhaps the clearest example of sophistry in action. For decades, policymakers, banks, and university leaders insisted that loans were an “investment” in the future. Billions of dollars in advertising, recruitment pitches, and presidential speeches told working-class families that debt was the price of opportunity, mobility, and the American Dream.

The rhetoric was powerful—but it was also false. Instead of producing universal prosperity, student loans created a new form of indenture, locking tens of millions of Americans into decades of repayment. Behind every slogan of “access” and “opportunity” was a reality of wage garnishment, ruined credit, and even Social Security checks seized from retirees.

Universities—public, private, and for-profit alike—benefited from this propaganda system. Administrators justified tuition hikes by pointing to the availability of federal loans, while politicians masked austerity and disinvestment by praising the “resilience” of students who borrowed. Sophistry covered over what philosophy might have revealed: that a system built on lifelong debt was neither just nor sustainable.

Contemporary Battles

Today, propaganda saturates every corner of higher education. Corporate partnerships with edtech firms like 2U, Coursera, and Pearson promise “innovation” while shifting costs and risks onto students and contingent faculty. DEI initiatives, while sometimes earnest, are often reduced to branding campaigns that distract from rising tuition, underfunded support services, and administrative bloat. On the other side, anti-DEI crusades, most visibly in Florida under Governor Ron DeSantis, have transformed universities like the University of Florida and New College into battlegrounds where rhetoric substitutes for governance.

Even the managerial language of “student success,” “excellence,” and “resilience” functions as propaganda. At Arizona State University, marketed as the “New American University,” branding and performance metrics often obscure deep reliance on adjunct labor and the struggles of students who leave with debt but no degree.

Why Critical Thinking Matters

In this environment, the ability to distinguish reason from sophistry is not just an academic exercise—it is essential for democratic survival. Critical thinking, logical reasoning, and ethical reflection must not be treated as luxuries reserved for philosophy majors. They are skills every student—and every citizen—requires to navigate a world saturated with propaganda.

If education has any remaining claim to a higher purpose, it is this: to cultivate minds capable of questioning, analyzing, and resisting manipulation. A society that abandons philosophy leaves itself at the mercy of those who wield rhetoric without conscience. But one that revives philosophy as a living practice of inquiry and critique can resist the slide into sophistry and reclaim some measure of truth, justice, and freedom.

The future of higher education, and perhaps democracy itself, depends on whether we choose philosophy or propaganda. The stakes could not be clearer.

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Sources

– Christopher Simpson, Universities and Empire: Money and Politics in the Social Sciences during the Cold War (1999)
– Noam Chomsky & Edward Herman, Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media (1988)
– Derek Bok, Universities in the Marketplace: The Commercialization of Higher Education (2003)
– David Graeber, Bullshit Jobs: A Theory (2018)
– Michael Hudson, The Destiny of Civilization (2022)
– Maurizio Lazzarato, The Making of the Indebted Man (2012)
– William Deresiewicz, Excellent Sheep: The Miseducation of the American Elite (2014)
– Tressie McMillan Cottom, Lower Ed: The Troubling Rise of For-Profit Colleges in the New Economy (2017)

College Meltdown Fall 2025

The Fall 2025 semester begins under intensifying pressure in U.S. higher education. Institutions are responding to long-term changes in enrollment, public funding, demographics, technology, and labor markets. The result is a gradual disassembly of parts of the postsecondary system, with ongoing layoffs, program cuts, and institutional restructuring across both public and private sectors.

The Destruction of ED

In a stunning turn, the U.S. Department of Education has undergone a massive downsizing, slashing nearly half its workforce as part of the Trump administration’s push to dismantle the agency entirely. Education Secretary Linda McMahon framed the move as a “final mission” to restore state control and eliminate federal bureaucracy, but critics warn of chaos for vulnerable students and families who rely on federal programs. With responsibilities like student loans, Pell Grants, and civil rights enforcement now in limbo, Higher Education Institutions face a volatile landscape. The absence of centralized oversight has accelerated the fragmentation of standards, funding, and accountability—leaving colleges scrambling to navigate a patchwork of state policies and shrinking federal support.

AI Disruption: Academic Integrity and Graduate Employment 

Artificial Intelligence has rapidly reshaped higher education, introducing both powerful tools and profound challenges. On campus, AI-driven platforms like ChatGPT have become ubiquitous—92% of students now use them, and 88% admit to deploying AI for graded assignments. This surge has triggered a spike in academic misconduct, with detection systems struggling to keep pace and disproportionately flagging non-native English speakers Meanwhile, the job market for graduates is undergoing a seismic shift. Entry-level roles in tech, finance, and consulting are vanishing as companies automate routine tasks once reserved for junior staff. AI-driven layoffs have already claimed over 10,000 jobs in 2025 alone, and some experts predict that up to half of all white-collar entry-level positions could be eliminated within five years. For recent grads, this means navigating a landscape where degrees may hold less weight, and adaptability, AI fluency, and human-centered skills are more critical than ever.

Unsustainable Student Loan Debt and Federal Funding 

A recent report from the American Enterprise Institute (AEI) highlights the depth of the crisis: more than 1,000 colleges could lose access to federal student aid based on current student loan repayment rates—if existing rules were fully enforced. The findings expose systemic failures in accountability and student outcomes. Many of these colleges enroll high numbers of low-income students but leave them with unsustainable debt and limited job prospects.

Institutional Cuts and Layoffs Across the Country

Job losses and cost reductions are increasing across a range of universities.

Stanford University is cutting staff due to a projected $200 million budget shortfall.
University of Oregon has announced budget reductions and academic restructuring.
Michigan State University is implementing layoffs and reorganizing departments.
Vanderbilt University Medical Center is eliminating positions to manage healthcare operating costs.
Harvard Kennedy School is reducing programs and offering early retirement.
Brown University is freezing hiring and reviewing academic offerings.
Penn State University System is closing three Commonwealth Campuses.
Indiana public colleges are merging administrative functions and reviewing low-enrollment programs.

These actions affect not only employees and students but also local communities and regional labor markets.

Enrollment Decline and Demographic Change

Undergraduate enrollment has fallen 14.6% since Fall 2019, according to the National Student Clearinghouse Research Center. Community colleges have experienced the largest losses, with some regions seeing more than 20% declines.

The “demographic cliff” tied to declining birth rates is now reflected in enrollment trends. The Western Interstate Commission for Higher Education (WICHE) projects a 15% decline in high school graduates between 2025 and 2037 in parts of the Midwest and Northeast.

Aging Population and Shifts in Public Spending

The U.S. population is aging. By 2030, all baby boomers will be over 65. The number of Americans aged 80 and older is expected to rise from 13 million in 2020 to nearly 20 million by 2035. Public resources are being redirected toward Social Security, Medicare, and elder care, placing higher education in direct competition for limited federal and state funds.

State-Level Cuts to Higher Education Budgets

According to the State Higher Education Executive Officers Association (SHEEO), 28 states saw a decline in inflation-adjusted funding per student in FY2024.

The California State University system faces a $400 million structural deficit.
West Virginia has reduced academic programs in favor of workforce-focused realignment.
Indiana has ordered cost-cutting measures across public campuses.

These reductions are leading to fewer courses, increased workloads, and, in some cases, higher tuition.

Closures and Mergers Continue

Since 2020, more than 100 campuses have closed or merged, based on Education Dive and HEI data. In 2025, Penn State began closing three Commonwealth Campuses. A number of small private colleges—especially those with enrollments under 1,000 and limited endowments—are seeking mergers or shutting down entirely.

International Enrollment Faces Obstacles

The Institute of International Education (IIE) reports a 12% decline in new international student enrollment in Fall 2024. Contributing factors include visa delays and tighter immigration rules. Students from India, Nigeria, and Iran have experienced longer wait times and increased rejection rates. Graduate programs in STEM and business are particularly affected.

Increased Surveillance and Restrictions on Campus Speech

Data from FIRE and the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) show increased use of surveillance tools on campuses since 2023. At least 15 public universities now use facial recognition, social media monitoring, or geofencing. State laws in Florida, Texas, and Georgia have introduced new restrictions on protests and diversity programs.

Automated Education Expands

Online Program Managers (OPMs) such as 2U, Kaplan, and Coursera are running over 500 online degree programs at more than 200 institutions, enrolling more than 1.5 million students. These programs often rely on AI-generated content and automated grading systems, with minimal instructor interaction.

Research from the Century Foundation shows that undergraduate programs operated by OPMs have completion rates below 35%, while charging tuition comparable to in-person degrees. Regulatory efforts to improve transparency and accountability remain stalled.

Oversight Gaps Remain

Accrediting agencies continue to approve closures, mergers, and new credential programs with limited transparency. Institutions are increasingly expanding short-term credential offerings and corporate partnerships with minimal external review.

Cost Shifts to Students, Faculty, and Communities

The ongoing restructuring of higher education is shifting costs and risks onto students, employees, and communities. Students face rising tuition, fewer available courses, and increased reliance on loans. Faculty and staff encounter job insecurity and heavier workloads. Outside the ivory tower, communities will lose access to educational services, cultural events, and local employment opportunities tied to campuses.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to report on the structural changes in U.S. higher education—grounded in data, public records, and the lived experiences of those directly affected.

Sources:
National Student Clearinghouse Research Center, Western Interstate Commission for Higher Education (WICHE), U.S. Census Bureau, State Higher Education Executive Officers Association (SHEEO), Institute of International Education (IIE), Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE), Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF), Government Accountability Office (GAO), The Century Foundation, Stanford University, University of Oregon, Penn State University System, Harvard Kennedy School, Vanderbilt University Medical Center, Education Dive Higher Ed Closures Tracker, American Enterprise Institute (AEI).

The Higher Education Inquirer: Investigating the Dark Corners of U.S. Higher Ed

For nearly a decade, the Higher Education Inquirer (HEI) has cultivated a reputation for relentless, independent journalism in a field often dominated by press-release rewrites and trade-conference boosterism. In 2024 and 2025, that commitment has been on full display, with a series of investigations that not only expose institutional negligence and corporate greed, but also demand structural change.

Following the Money: GI Bill Loopholes and Veteran Betrayal

One of HEI’s most impactful 2025 stories examined how billions in GI Bill funds—more than Pell Grants or state scholarships—are diverted to for-profit and low-performing nonprofit institutions. Despite promises of career advancement, many veterans end up underemployed and in debt. The reporting points to deliberate policy gaps, such as the weakened 90–10 rule, that incentivize predatory recruitment over educational quality.

Student Debt Transparency: A FOIA Offensive

HEI has also launched an ambitious Freedom of Information Act campaign to shed light on the federal student loan portfolio and on how rarely student loan debt is discharged through bankruptcy. Requests to the Department of Education seek data going back to 1965—records that could help quantify decades of policy drift away from borrower relief.

The FOIA strategy doesn’t stop at the Department of Education. HEI has queried the Securities and Exchange Commission for complaint data against online program managers 2U and Ambow Education, bringing corporate accountability into sharper focus.

Beyond the Campus: Immigration, Religion, and Geopolitics

While student debt remains a central concern, HEI has broadened its investigative reach. In March 2025, it filed a FOIA with the State Department for details on more than 300 revoked student visas, a move to illuminate opaque policies that can upend lives without public explanation.

Other pieces have examined the rise of Christian cybercharter schools, warning of a drift toward ideological indoctrination in taxpayer-funded education. Internationally, HEI has scrutinized the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation’s U.S. media tour, questioning the intersection of higher education, faith-based advocacy, and political agendas.

Why This Work Matters

What makes HEI’s journalism unique is its sustained follow-through. Many outlets publish a single exposé and move on. HEI revisits stories months or years later, tracking the real-world consequences of policy changes and institutional behavior. This persistence has helped keep public attention on issues like the Corinthian Colleges collapse and the broader failure to deliver promised student debt relief.

By pairing data-driven reporting with insider accounts and whistleblower input, HEI not only documents abuse but also lays out pathways for reform. In a higher education system where financialized logic often outweighs student welfare, that combination is increasingly rare—and increasingly necessary.

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Sources:

• Higher Education Inquirer

• Higher Education Inquirer – GI Bill Reform

• University Leadership Central

• Student Affairs Connection

The Digital Dark Ages of Higher Education: Greed, Myth, and the Ghosts of Lost Knowledge

In a time of unprecedented data collection, artificial intelligence, and networked access to information, it seems unthinkable that we could be slipping into a new Dark Age. But that is precisely what is unfolding in American higher education—a Digital Dark Age marked not just by the disappearance of records, but by the disappearance of truth.

This is not a passive erosion of information. It is a systemic, coordinated effort to conceal institutional failure, to commodify public knowledge, and to weaponize mythology. It is a collapse not of technology, but of ethics and memory.

A Dark Age in Plain Sight

Digital decay is usually associated with vanishing files and outdated formats. In higher education, it takes the more sinister form of intentional erasure. Data that once offered accountability—graduation rates, job placement figures, loan default data, even course materials—have become reputational liabilities. When inconvenient, they vanish.

Gainful Employment data disappeared from federal websites under the Trump administration. Student outcomes from for-profit conversions are obscured through accounting tricks. Internal audits and consultant reports sit behind NDAs and paywalls. And when institutions close or rebrand, their failures are scrubbed from the record like Soviet photographs.

This is a higher education system consumed by image management, where inconvenient truths are buried under branded mythologies.

The Robocolleges and the Rise of the Algorithm

No phenomenon illustrates this transformation more starkly than the rise of robocolleges—fully online institutions like Southern New Hampshire University, University of Phoenix, and Liberty University Online. These institutions, driven more by enrollment growth than educational mission, are built to scale, surveil, and extract.

Their architecture is not intellectual but algorithmic: automated learning systems, outsourced instructors, and AI-driven behavioral analytics replace human-centered pedagogy. Data replaces dialogue. And all of it happens behind proprietary systems controlled by Online Program Managers (OPMs)—for-profit companies like 2U, Academic Partnerships, and Wiley that handle recruitment, curriculum design, and marketing for universities, often taking a majority cut of tuition revenue.

These robocolleges aren’t built to educate; they’re built to profit. They are credential vending machines with advertising budgets, protected by political lobbying and obscured by branding.

And they are perfectly suited to a Digital Dark Age, where metrics are manipulated, failures are hidden, and education is indistinguishable from a subscription service.

Myth #1: The College Degree as Guaranteed Mobility

The dominant myth still peddled by these institutions—and many traditional ones—is that a college degree is a golden ticket to upward mobility. But in an economy of stagnant wages, rising tuition, and unpayable debt, this narrative is a weapon.

Robocolleges and their OPM partners sell dreams on Instagram and YouTube—“Success stories,” “first-gen pride,” and inflated salary stats—while ignoring the mountains of debt, dropout rates, and lifelong economic precarity their students face. And when those stories come to light? They disappear behind legal threats, settlements, and strategic rebranding.

The dream has become a trap, and the myth has become a means of extraction.

Myth #2: Innovation Through EdTech

“Tech will save us” is the second great myth. EdTech companies promise to revolutionize learning through adaptive platforms, AI tutors, and automated assessments. But what they really offer is surveillance, cost-cutting, and outsourcing.

Institutions are increasingly beholden to opaque algorithms and third-party platforms that strip faculty of agency and students of privacy. Assessment becomes analytics. Learning becomes labor. And the metrics these systems produce—completion rates, engagement data—are as easily manipulated as they are misunderstood.

Far from democratizing education, EdTech has helped turn it into a digital panopticon, where every click is monetized, and every action is tracked.

Myth #3: The Digital Campus as a Public Good

Universities love to claim that their digital campuses are open and inclusive. But in truth, access is restricted, commercialized, and disappearing.

Libraries are gutted. Archives are defunded. Publicly funded research is locked behind publisher paywalls. Historical documents, administrative records, even syllabi are now ephemeral—stored on private platforms, subject to deletion at will. The digital campus is a gated community, and the public is locked out.

Third-party vendors now control what students read, how they’re taught, and who can access the past. Memory is no longer a public good—it is a leased service.

Greed, Cheating, and Digital Amnesia

This is not simply a story about decay—it is a story about cheating. Not just by students, but by institutions themselves.

Colleges cheat by manipulating data to mislead accreditors and prospective students. OPMs cheat by obscuring their contracts and revenue-sharing models. Robocolleges cheat by prioritizing growth over learning. And all of them cheat when they hide the truth, delete the data, or suppress the whistleblowers.

Faculty are silenced through non-disclosure agreements. Archivists are laid off. Historians and librarians are told to “streamline” and “rebrand” rather than preserve and inform. The keepers of memory are being dismissed, just when we need them most.

Myth as Memory Hole

The Digital Dark Ages are not merely a result of failing tech—they are the logical outcome of a system that values profit over truth, optics over integrity, and compliance over inquiry.

Greed isn’t incidental. It’s the design. And the myths propagated by robocolleges, OPMs, and traditional universities alike are the cover stories that keep the public sedated and the money flowing.

American higher education once aspired to be a sanctuary of memory, a force for social mobility, and a guardian of public knowledge. But it is now drifting toward becoming a black box—a mythologized, monetized shadow of its former self, accessible only through marketing and controlled by vendors.

Without intervention—legal, financial, and intellectual—we risk becoming a society where education is an illusion, memory is curated, and truth is whatever survives the deletion script.

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Sources and References:

• Savage Inequalities, Jonathan Kozol

• Tressie McMillan Cottom, Lower Ed

• Christopher Newfield, The Great Mistake

• Nancy MacLean, Democracy in Chains

• U.S. Department of Education archives (missing Gainful Employment data)

• “Paywall: The Business of Scholarship” (2018)

• SPARC (Scholarly Publishing and Academic Resources Coalition)

• Internet Archive reports on digital preservation

• ProPublica and The Century Foundation on OPMs and robocolleges

• Faculty union reports on librarian and archivist layoffs

• Inside Higher Ed and The Chronicle of Higher Education coverage of data manipulation, robocolleges, and institutional opacity

From EdTech Darling to Distressed Asset — A Post-Bankruptcy Autopsy

The fall of 2U, once a poster child of education technology innovation, is a cautionary tale for investors, policymakers, and students alike. After riding a wave of optimism in the online education bo-m, the company declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy in mid-2024, emerging weeks later as a privately held firm now controlled by distressed asset investors. While many of the company’s top executives have been replaced or reshuffled, the story is far from over—and the damage done to public trust in university–edtech partnerships remains.

Founded in 2008 and based in Lanham, Maryland, 2U positioned itself as a premier Online Program Manager (OPM), contracting with top-tier universities to run their online degree programs. By 2019, the company was a billion-dollar operation, boasting partnerships with USC, Georgetown, and Yale. But cracks began to show as questions about cost, transparency, student outcomes, and aggressive recruiting practices became harder to ignore.

By 2023, 2U was bleeding cash, facing multiple lawsuits, regulatory scrutiny, and plummeting investor confidence. The final blow came when the company defaulted on over $450 million in debt. In July 2024, 2U entered and quickly exited Chapter 11 bankruptcy through a pre-packaged deal. The result: 2U is now a private company, with ownership largely transferred to distressed debt investors—Mudrick Capital Management, Greenvale Capital, and Bayside Capital (an affiliate of H.I.G. Capital).

These firms are known not for a commitment to education but for expertise in distressed asset recovery and aggressive restructuring. Mudrick Capital, for instance, made headlines for its role in the AMC “meme stock” frenzy. Bayside Capital has long operated in the shadows of high-risk debt markets, favoring fast-moving deals in stressed financial environments. Greenvale Capital, a lesser-known but analytically rigorous hedge fund, rounds out the group.

Following the takeover, 2U appointed Kees Bol as its new CEO and installed Brian Napack—a veteran of the education sector and former CEO of Wiley—as Executive Chairman of the Board. Whether this new leadership can turn 2U around remains unclear. For now, they are signaling a pivot toward non-degree credentials and corporate upskilling markets, away from costly master’s degree programs that saddled students with debt and poor returns.

But 2U’s shift is not merely a business story. Its implosion exposes broader flaws in the higher education–tech ecosystem. OPMs like 2U operated in a legal gray area, exploiting Title IV federal student aid without direct regulatory oversight. Critics, including lawmakers and consumer protection advocates, argue that these firms served more as enrollment mills than academic partners. The Department of Education’s efforts to rein in the industry through “bundled services” guidance and potential Gainful Employment rules came too late to prevent massive financial fallout.

The universities that partnered with 2U are also complicit. Many ceded control of curriculum design, admissions, and marketing to a for-profit company in exchange for a share of the revenue. In doing so, they risked their reputations—and in some cases, knowingly funneled students into programs with dubious value. These relationships, many of which are still active, should now be reexamined in light of 2U’s restructuring.

Students who enrolled in these programs, often with the promise of career advancement and elite credentials, are left with debt and degrees that may not deliver the expected return. As 2U retools its strategy under the control of financial firms, it's unclear whether these students—or future ones—will benefit at all.

Meanwhile, the venture capitalists and financial engineers behind the scenes have already cashed out or secured their positions in the restructured entity. Like so many stories in the for-profit education sector, 2U’s downfall was not just predictable—it was profitable for those who knew how to play the system.

Have you worked with 2U—or been affected by it?

The Higher Education Inquirer is continuing its investigation into 2U and the wider online program management (OPM) industry. If you are a former or current employee of 2U, Trilogy Education, EdX, or a related company, a university staff or faculty member who collaborated with 2U, a student or graduate of a 2U-powered program, a marketing contractor, admissions specialist, or vendor affiliated with 2U or its partners, or someone with knowledge of the company's restructuring or operations—we want to hear from you.

We are especially interested in experiences involving enrollment pressure tactics, misleading marketing, internal operations, financial mismanagement, compliance concerns, and revenue-sharing agreements with universities. If 2U’s collapse or restructuring affected your job, finances, or education, your story matters.

You can share information confidentially by contacting us at gmcghee@aya.yale.edu. Anonymity will be protected upon request.

Defunding Public Media and the Dumbing Down of the United States of America

In the summer of 2025, as political battles raged over spending priorities, the Trump administration quietly moved to strip federal funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB), which helps sustain PBS and NPR. The justification? Cost-cutting and “eliminating liberal bias.” But beneath the surface, the defunding of public media is part of a much larger and more troubling trend: the deliberate degradation of public knowledge and critical thinking in the United States.

While elites send their children to private schools and consume high-quality journalism behind paywalls, the American public is being left with infotainment, partisan outrage, and algorithm-driven misinformation. Public broadcasting—though imperfect—has long served as one of the few accessible sources of educational content, cultural programming, and fact-based journalism available to all. Its erosion is a symbolic and practical blow to civic literacy in a country already struggling with basic educational attainment.

A Nation Struggling with Literacy

According to the U.S. Department of Education and the National Center for Education Statistics, only about half of U.S. adults read above a sixth-grade level. The OECD’s Programme for the International Assessment of Adult Competencies (PIAAC) has also found that nearly 20% of U.S. adults perform at or below the lowest levels of literacy and numeracy, placing the U.S. behind many other developed countries in basic skills.

A 2020 Gallup report estimated that low levels of literacy cost the U.S. economy more than $200 billion annually in lost productivity, wages, and tax revenue. Yet funding for adult education, public libraries, and public broadcasting continues to shrink—even as disinformation spreads faster and wider.

Who Benefits from a Dumbed-Down Public?

As the Higher Education Inquirer has documented in its reporting on for-profit education, digital credential mills, and the student debt crisis, the American knowledge economy is deeply stratified. Access to high-quality information, critical discourse, and even basic educational tools is increasingly a function of wealth and geography.

The defunding of NPR and PBS aligns with other coordinated efforts to dismantle public goods: the closure of public libraries, the corporatization of public universities, and the privatization of K-12 education through charter networks and voucher programs. These moves benefit private equity, edtech entrepreneurs, and ideological actors who profit when the public cannot think critically or access reliable information.

Far-right activists have long targeted public media as an enemy, not because it is radical, but because it provides a baseline of factual reporting that challenges misinformation and offers cultural programming outside the commercial marketplace. As trust in mainstream institutions declines, the vacuum is filled by influencers, conspiracy theorists, and partisan content creators—many of whom now dominate online spaces where public discourse once lived.

The Role of Public Media in Civic Life

PBS and NPR have historically played an important role in fostering civic engagement and lifelong learning. Shows like Frontline, Nova, NewsHour, and Morning Edition offered context and depth not found on commercial networks. Educational programming for children, such as Sesame Street and Arthur, supported early literacy and social development, particularly for families without access to high-quality preschool.

The attack on public media is, therefore, not just about money. It is about erasing a platform for critical inquiry and shared public knowledge. In many rural communities, public radio is still the most consistent, nonpartisan news source. Removing federal support won’t just weaken these outlets—it may silence them entirely.

A Broader War on Intelligence

This latest move fits within a broader campaign to delegitimize expertise, suppress academic freedom, and dismantle public education. As we reported in “Socrates in Space: University of Austin and the Billionaire Pipeline,” there’s a concerted effort by political operatives and billionaires to replace traditional knowledge institutions with ideologically-aligned alternatives.

The result is a country in which millions lack the literacy to read a ballot initiative, interpret a news article, or understand a contract—and where those with access to capital can shape the discourse while the rest are locked out.

In this environment, public media is not simply an institution—it is a last line of defense.

Consolidating Informational Power

The defunding of PBS and NPR is not an isolated event. It is part of a systemic effort to dismantle civic infrastructure, suppress critical thinking, and consolidate informational power in the hands of the wealthy and the politically connected. In a country where half the adult population cannot read beyond a sixth-grade level, eliminating access to high-quality, accessible programming is not just negligent—it is a form of engineered ignorance.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to investigate the erosion of public knowledge and its consequences. If you have stories about media access, censorship, or attacks on public institutions in your community, contact us at gmcghee@aya.yale.edu..

Sources:

• U.S. Department of Education, National Center for Education Statistics (NCES), “Adult Literacy in the United States,” 2020

• OECD, “Skills Matter: Further Results from the Survey of Adult Skills (PIAAC),” 2016

• Gallup, “Assessing the Economic Gains of Eradicating Illiteracy Nationally and Regionally in the United States,” 2020

• Corporation for Public Broadcasting (CPB), Budget History

• Pew Research Center, “News Consumption Across Social Media in 2023”

• Higher Education Inquirer, “Socrates in Space: University of Austin and the Billionaire Pipeline,” 2024

• Higher Education Inquirer, “The 2U-PAC Nexus,” 2025

Trump Signs Crypto Bill: A Gateway to Corruption and Financial Oppression

On July 17, 2025, Donald Trump signed into law the “American Digital Freedom Act,” a sweeping piece of legislation that federalizes and deregulates cryptocurrency markets in the United States. While hailed by supporters as a victory for innovation and financial autonomy, the new law is more accurately understood as a major victory for crypto billionaires, libertarian think tanks, and political operatives seeking to reshape American financial life with minimal public accountability.

This bill, which strips oversight powers from the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) and restricts consumer protections, was heavily influenced by the cryptocurrency lobby. It legitimizes risky, unregulated financial products, undermines state enforcement power, and further embeds private power into public infrastructure. Far from delivering financial freedom to everyday Americans, this law opens the door to unprecedented corruption and control, continuing a pattern long warned about in the pages of the Higher Education Inquirer.

Echoes of Student Debt, EdTech Fraud, and Neoliberal Capture

In our May 2025 article, "How the New Cryptocurrency Bill Could Open the Door to Corruption and Control," we warned that the crypto bill was less about democratizing finance and more about creating new extractive markets. As with the for-profit college industry, the gigification of academic labor, and the student loan crisis, the crypto sector markets itself to the financially desperate, the underemployed, and the debt-burdened.

Cryptocurrency platforms promise opportunity and empowerment, just as subprime for-profit colleges did during the early 2000s. Instead, they profit from volatility, speculation, and financial illiteracy. The collapse of companies like FTX and the unraveling of various "blockchain for education" experiments—like those pitched by Minerva, 2U, and Lambda School—should have served as a warning. Instead, the American Digital Freedom Act enshrines their business models into law.

From Financial Risk to Political Weapon

While proponents describe the law as a pro-innovation framework, the political context suggests otherwise. The crypto bill was pushed through by some of the same operatives behind efforts to weaken the Department of Education, dismantle Title IX protections, and privatize public universities. The legislation also dovetails with Trump-aligned plans to create “digital citizenship” systems linked to financial identity—a move critics argue could be used to surveil and suppress dissent.

By reducing AML (Anti-Money Laundering) standards and weakening Know Your Customer (KYC) rules, the new law also makes it easier for dark money to enter U.S. elections and political campaigns. The line between crypto lobbying, national security risks, and voter manipulation is already blurred—and this legislation will only accelerate the trend.

As the Higher Education Inquirer, there is a growing convergence of tech capital, deregulated finance, and political ideology that promotes “freedom” while gutting accountability. The crypto bill fits squarely within this pattern.

Targeting the Dispossessed

The communities that will bear the brunt of the consequences are already stretched thin: working-class students drowning in loan debt, unemployed graduates with useless credentials, and gig workers living paycheck to paycheck. These are the same groups now being told that speculative crypto investments are their only shot at economic mobility.

It’s no surprise that crypto apps are targeting community college students, veterans, and underbanked populations with gamified interfaces and referral incentives—echoing the same predatory logic as diploma mills. Instead of building generational wealth, these platforms often lock users into a new form of digital serfdom, driven by data extraction and monetized hype.

The Long Game of Financialized Authoritarianism

The Higher Education Inquirer has consistently highlighted the dangers of unregulated private capital colonizing public institutions. Whether through for-profit colleges, hollow credential marketplaces, or now unregulated crypto markets, the pattern is the same: promise empowerment, deliver exploitation, and consolidate power.

The crypto bill signed by Trump is not an end—it is a gateway. A gateway to a political economy where finance, tech, and politics are indistinguishable, and where the price of dissent may be counted not only in speech, but in digital wallets and blockchain-based reputations.

We will continue reporting on the consequences of this legislation—especially where it intersects with higher education, student debt, and the erosion of democratic infrastructure. If you’ve been affected by crypto scams in academic settings or targeted by blockchain-backed “innovation” schemes, we want to hear from you.

Sources:

• “How the New Cryptocurrency Bill Could Open the Door to Corruption and Control,” Higher Education Inquirer, May 2025

• “Socrates in Space: University of Austin and the Billionaire Pipeline,” Higher Education Inquirer, July 2024

• U.S. Congressional Record, July 17, 2025

• CoinDesk, “Trump Signs Historic Crypto Deregulation Bill,” July 2025

• Public Citizen, “Crypto Lobby’s Push to Rewrite U.S. Law,” June 2025

• SEC Chair Gary Gensler’s Remarks, April–June 2025

• Financial Times, “Digital Authoritarianism and Financial Surveillance,” May 2025

The Enshitification of Higher Education in the United States

Cory Doctorow’s theory of enshitification—originally coined to describe how digital platforms decay over time—perfectly captures the grim evolution of U.S. higher education. Institutions that once positioned themselves as public goods now exist primarily to sustain themselves, extracting revenue, prestige, and labor at the expense of students, faculty, and the broader public.

In the post–World War II era, higher education in the United States was broadly seen as a driver of social mobility, economic growth, and democratic citizenship. The GI Bill and substantial state funding opened college doors to millions. Tuition at public institutions was minimal or nonexistent. Academic freedom, faculty governance, and research for the common good were foundational ideals.

By the 1980s, neoliberal policies began to reshape the higher education landscape. Public disinvestment led institutions to rely more heavily on tuition, philanthropy, corporate partnerships, and student debt. Universities became more bureaucratic and brand-conscious. Students were reframed as consumers, and education as a commodity. Faculty positions gave way to underpaid adjunct labor, and Online Program Managers like 2U, Academic Partnerships (aka Risepoint) and Kaplan emerged to monetize digital learning. Marketing budgets ballooned. Classrooms and research labs became secondary to enrollment targets and revenue generation.

A 2019 Higher Education Inquirer report revealed how elite universities joined the downward spiral. Institutions like Harvard, Yale, and USC outsourced online graduate programs to 2U, employing aggressive recruitment tactics that resembled those of discredited for-profit colleges. Applicants were encouraged to take on excessive debt for degrees with uncertain returns. Whistleblowers likened it to fraud-by-phone—evidence that even the most prestigious universities were embracing an extractive model.

Doctoral education offers a deeper glimpse into how enshitification has hollowed out academia. Sold as a noble pursuit of truth and a path to secure academic employment, the Ph.D. has become, for many, a journey into economic instability, psychological distress, and underemployment. Only a small percentage of doctoral students land tenure-track jobs. Graduate schools continue to admit far more students than they can responsibly support, while providing little preparation for careers outside academia. Mentorship is often lacking, and financial support is frequently inadequate. Many graduate students rely on food pantries, defer medical care, or take on gig work just to survive. Meanwhile, universities benefit from their labor in teaching and research.

International graduate students face even steeper challenges. Promised opportunity, they instead encounter a saturated job market, low wages, and immigration precarity. Their labor props up U.S. research and rankings, but their long-term prospects are often bleak.

The rise of career-transition consultants—like Cheeky Scientist and The Professor Is In—has become a booming cottage industry, a byproduct of the failed academic job pipeline. For most Ph.D.s, what was once considered “alternative academia” is now the only path forward.

Financial hardship compounds the crisis. Graduate stipends in many programs are far below local living wages, especially in high-cost cities like San Francisco, Boston, or New York. Few programs provide retirement benefits or financial literacy resources. The financial toll of earning a doctorate is often hidden until students are years deep into their programs—and years behind in wealth accumulation.

Meanwhile, university medical centers—often affiliated with elite institutions—offer a parallel example of institutional enshitification. These hospitals have long histories of exploitation, particularly of poor and minority patients. Even today, these facilities prioritize affluent patients and donors, while relying on precariously employed staff and treating marginalized communities as research subjects. The disparities are systematic and ongoing. The rhetoric of innovation and healing masks a legacy of racial injustice and extractive labor practices.

Legacy admissions further entrench inequality. While race-conscious admissions have been rolled back, legacy preferences remain largely untouched. They serve to maintain elite networks, ensuring that wealth and access remain intergenerational. These policies not only contradict the rhetoric of meritocracy but also deepen structural inequities in the name of tradition.

Today, higher education serves itself. Institutions protect billion-dollar endowments, award executive salaries in the millions, expand sports programs and real estate portfolios, and depend on underpaid faculty and indebted students. Campuses are rife with inequality, surveillance of student protest, and performative gestures of inclusion, even as DEI initiatives are gutted by state governments or internal austerity.

The consequences are clear. Enrollment is declining. Campuses are closing. Faculty are being laid off. Public trust is eroding. And even elite institutions are feeling the strain. Doctorow’s theory suggests that once a system has fully enshittified, collapse becomes inevitable. The College Meltdown is not hypothetical—it’s here.

And yet, collapse can be a beginning. Higher education must be radically reimagined: public investment, tuition-free education, student debt relief, labor protections, honest admissions policies, and genuine democratic governance. The alternative is more of the same: a system that costs more, delivers less, and cannibalizes its future to feed its prestige economy.

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Selected Sources

Caterine, Christopher L. Leaving Academia: A Practical Guide. Princeton University Press, 2020.

Cassuto, Leonard. The Graduate School Mess: What Caused It and How We Can Fix It. Harvard University Press, 2015.

Kelsky, Karen. The Professor Is In: The Essential Guide to Turning Your Ph.D. into a Job. Three Rivers Press, 2015.

Roberts, Emily. Personal Finance for Ph.D.s. https://www.pfforphds.com

Shaulis, Dahn. “2U Expands College Meltdown to Elite Universities.” Higher Education Inquirer, Oct. 4, 2019. https://www.highereducationinquirer.org/2019/10/college-meltdown-expands-to-elite.html

Shaulis, Dahn. “The Dark Legacy of Elite University Medical Centers.” Higher Education Inquirer, Mar. 13, 2025. https://www.highereducationinquirer.org/2025/03/the-dark-legacy-of-elite-university.html

Doctorow, Cory. “TikTok's Enshittification.” Pluralistic.net, Jan. 21, 2023. https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/

American Association of University Professors. Annual Report on the Economic Status of the Profession, 2023. https://www.aaup.org

National Student Clearinghouse Research Center. Current Term Enrollment Estimates, 2024. https://nscresearchcenter.org

Newfield, Christopher. The Great Mistake: How We Wrecked Public Universities and How We Can Fix Them. Johns Hopkins University Press, 2016.

Goldrick-Rab, Sara. Paying the Price: College Costs, Financial Aid, and the Betrayal of the American Dream. University of Chicago Press, 2016.

Roth, Gary. The Educated Underclass: Students and the Promise of Social Mobility. Pluto Press, 2019.

Teen Vogue. “The Movement Against Legacy Admissions.” Jan. 2, 2025. https://www.teenvogue.com/story/movement-against-legacy-admissions

The Guardian. “‘Affirmative Action for the Privileged’: Why Democrats Are Fighting Legacy Admissions.” Aug. 11, 2023. https://www.theguardian.com/education/2023/aug/11/college-legacy-admissions-affirmative-action-democrats

Wake Forest and Kaplan: Selling Prestige in a Predatory Credential Market

Wake Forest University, a private institution with a proud 185-year history, has long marketed itself as a place for ethical leadership and elite scholarship. But its recent partnership with Kaplan—an infamous name in for-profit education and test prep—raises serious questions about the erosion of academic integrity and the corporatization of American higher education.

Wake Forest’s online offerings, now delivered in collaboration with Kaplan, are dressed in glowing promotional language. Prospective students are promised access to “a global network of 80,000+ alumni,” “1-on-1 guidance from a dedicated Student Success Manager,” and a curriculum shaped by “a Program Advisory Board of diverse business leaders.” The university assures working professionals that they can “earn a 100% online master’s degree or graduate certificate” on their own terms, with a “streamlined admissions process” and “flexible courses.”

But strip away the buzzwords and what’s left is a degree-granting operation outsourced to a for-profit education company with a controversial legacy. Kaplan, now owned by Graham Holdings (formerly the parent company of The Washington Post), has been at the center of lawsuits, regulatory scrutiny, and allegations of exploitative practices in its higher ed ventures—including its role in managing Purdue Global, formerly Kaplan University. The company has a long history of targeting vulnerable populations—especially working-class adults—with high-cost, low-value credentials that often don’t lead to the promised career outcomes.

So why is Wake Forest—an elite university with a storied reputation—collaborating with Kaplan?

The answer is simple: profit and scale.

In an era when even wealthy private universities are looking to expand their revenue streams, online education has become a lucrative frontier. But building and managing online degree programs in-house requires serious investment, time, and expertise. Enter Kaplan, which provides the infrastructure, marketing, enrollment management, and student support—all in exchange for a share of the revenue.

What does this mean for students?

It means that Wake Forest’s name is now being used to sell online degrees to mid-career professionals under the promise of prestige, convenience, and upward mobility—without the full intellectual, cultural, or communal experience that Wake Forest once symbolized. The degrees may bear the Wake Forest seal, but they are increasingly indistinguishable from the mass-produced credentials churned out by dozens of other universities that have sold access to their brands through partnerships with Online Program Managers (OPMs) like Kaplan, 2U, Wiley, and Coursera.

The “1-on-1 Student Success Manager” may sound supportive, but in practice these positions are often little more than call center roles staffed by Kaplan employees trained to ensure retention and upsell future courses—not to engage in meaningful academic mentorship.

The curriculum may be “developed and led by recognized faculty and industry experts,” but in many cases these are adjunct instructors or contract workers who have limited interaction with students and little say in the structure or pedagogy of the courses. This model contributes to the broader exploitation of contingent academic labor—an issue Wake Forest, like many elite universities, prefers not to discuss.

And the promise of becoming a leader “from anywhere” with a Wake Forest SPS degree? That too should be questioned. These degrees exist in an increasingly saturated credential market where employers are skeptical, return on investment is uncertain, and students often find themselves saddled with debt and disappointment.

If Wake Forest were truly committed to ethical leadership, it would take a hard look at the implications of commodifying its brand through a partnership with a company like Kaplan. Instead, it has chosen to chase market share and tuition revenue at the expense of its academic credibility—and at the risk of misleading students who believe they’re buying into the full Wake Forest experience.

The truth is this: Wake Forest is selling the illusion of prestige, wrapped in a glossy brochure of online convenience and corporate optimism. In reality, it’s another cog in a profit-driven machine that markets higher education as a product rather than a public good. And that’s not transformative change. That’s business as usual in the credential economy.