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

Stanford's student newspaper sues President Trump

The Stanford Daily has filed a federal lawsuit against former President Donald Trump, marking a bold legal move from one of the country’s most prominent student newspapers. Editors at the Daily argue that Trump-era immigration policies targeting international students for political speech violated constitutional protections and created a climate of fear on campus.

This legal action arrives during a moment of institutional turmoil at Stanford. Just days before the lawsuit was filed, university officials announced layoffs of more than 360 staff members, following $140 million in budget cuts. Administrators cited federal funding reductions and a steep endowment tax—legacies of Trump’s policies—as major factors behind the financial strain.

Student journalists now find themselves confronting the same administration that reshaped higher education financing, gutted transparency, and targeted dissent. Their lawsuit challenges the chilling effect of visa threats against noncitizen students, particularly those who criticize U.S. or Israeli policy. Two international students joined the case anonymously, citing fear of deportation for expressing political views.

Stanford holds one of the largest university endowments in the world, valued between $37 and $40 billion. Despite this immense wealth, hundreds of staff—including research support, technical workers, and student service roles—face termination. The disconnect between administrative austerity and executive influence speaks to a larger crisis in higher education governance.

The Daily’s lawsuit cuts to the core of that crisis. Student reporters are asking not only for legal accountability, but also for transparency around how universities respond to political pressure—and who gets silenced in the process.

HEI’s Commitment to Student-Led Accountability

The Higher Education Inquirer is elevating this story as part of an ongoing effort to highlight courageous journalism from student-run newsrooms. Editorial boards like The Stanford Daily’s are producing investigative work that professional media often overlook. These journalists aren’t waiting for permission. They’re filing FOIA requests, confronting billion-dollar institutions, and—when necessary—taking their cases to court.

HEI will continue amplifying these efforts. Student reporters are already reshaping the media conversation around academic freedom, labor justice, and the political economy of higher education. Their work deserves broader attention and support.

Sources:

• Stanford Daily: “Stanford to lay off over 360 staff following $140 million budget cuts”

• TIME: “Stanford Daily Sues Trump Over Threats to Free Speech for International Students”

• SF Chronicle: “Stanford’s Student Paper Sues Trump Amid Budget Crisis”

Time to Shut Off the Tap: The Case for Ending DoD Tuition Assistance to Predatory Colleges

On July 3, 2025, the Higher Education Inquirer received the latest response from the U.S. Department of Defense (DoD) regarding FOIA request 22-F-1203—our most recent effort in a nearly eight-year campaign to uncover how subprime and for-profit colleges have preyed on military servicemembers, veterans, and their families.

The response included confirmation that 1,420 pages of documents were located. But of those, 306 pages were withheld in full, and 1,114 were released only with heavy redactions. A few for-profit colleges—Trident University International, Grand Canyon University, DeVry University, and American Public University System (which includes American Military University and American Public University)—were specifically mentioned in the partially visible content.

And yet the larger truth remains hidden. The names of other institutions known to have exploited military-connected students—University of Phoenix, Colorado Technical University, American InterContinental University, Purdue University Global, and Liberty University Online, among others—were nowhere to be found in the documents we received. Their absence is conspicuous.

We have been pursuing the truth since December 2017, demanding records that would reveal how the DoD enabled these schools to thrive. We sought the list of the 50 worst-performing colleges receiving Tuition Assistance (TA) funds, based on data compiled under Executive Order 13607 during the Obama Administration. That list was never released. When the Trump Administration took power in 2017, they quietly abandoned the protective measures meant to hold these colleges accountable. Our FOIA request DOD OIG-2019-000702 was denied, with the Pentagon claiming that no such list existed. A second request in 2021 (21-F-0411) was also rejected. And now, more than three years after we filed our 2022 request, the DoD continues to deny the public full access to the truth.

The records we did receive are riddled with legal exemptions: internal deliberations, privacy claims, and most notably, references to 10 U.S.C. § 4021, a law that allows the DoD to withhold details of research transactions outside of traditional grants and contracts. In other words, the Pentagon has built legal firewalls around its relationships with for-profit education providers—and continues to shield bad actors from scrutiny.

But the complicity doesn’t end there. It extends deep into the institutional fabric of how the military interfaces with higher education.

Decades of Systemic Corruption

Since the 1980s, the U.S. Department of Defense has worked hand-in-glove with for-profit colleges through a nonprofit called the Council of College and Military Educators (CCME). What began in the 1970s as a noble initiative to expand access to education for military personnel was hijacked by predatory colleges—including the University of Phoenix—that used the organization as a lobbying front.

These schools infiltrated CCME events, using them to curry favor with military officials, often by hiring veterans as on-base sales agents and even providing alcohol to loosen up potential gatekeepers. While CCME publicly maintained the appearance of academic integrity and service, behind the scenes it served as a conduit for lobbying, influence, and enrollment schemes. Military education officers were schmoozed, manipulated, and in some cases, quietly co-opted. This is something you won’t find in CCME’s official history.

We have been told by multiple insiders that the partnership between DoD and these schools was not just tolerated but actively nurtured. Attempts at reform came and went. Investigations were buried. Promises to "do better" evaporated. No one was held accountable. No one went to jail. But the damage has been lasting—measured in ruined credit, wasted benefits, and lives derailed by fraudulent degrees and broken promises.

The Trump-Hegseth Department of Defense

And still, new scandals—except those uncovered by us—go largely unreported. The media has moved on. Congressional attention has shifted. And the same schools, or their rebranded successors, continue to operate freely, often under the protective shadow of military partnerships.

Today, the DoD continues to deny that the DODOIG-2019-000702 list of the 50 worst schools even exists. But we know otherwise. Based on VA data, whistleblower accounts, and independent reporting, we are confident that this list was compiled—and buried. The question is why. And the answer may very well lie in the unredacted names of institutions too politically connected or too legally protected to be exposed.

The Evidence Is Overwhelming

The most damning proof of institutional complicity remains publicly available. In GAO Report GAO-14-855, published in 2014, the Government Accountability Office detailed the deep flaws in DoD’s oversight of its Tuition Assistance program. The report highlighted inconsistent evaluations, unqualified contractor reviewers, vague standards, and incomplete data collection. The DoD had spent hundreds of millions of taxpayer dollars on schools without ensuring quality or protecting students. In response, DoD temporarily halted its school evaluations—then quietly resumed business as usual.

PwC audits from 2015 and 2018 confirmed widespread noncompliance with DoD’s Memorandum of Understanding (MOU). Schools violated marketing guidelines, offered misleading transfer information, and failed to provide basic academic counseling. Few were sanctioned, and even fewer were removed from eligibility lists.

Gatehouse Strategies, in its 2022 report, reinforced these conclusions. It warned of “a lack of consistent enforcement mechanisms,” and found that even institutions under investigation continued to receive DoD TA funding. The system appeared designed not to punish misconduct, but to tolerate and obscure it.

The Cost of Inaction

Meanwhile, service members seeking education are left exposed. Many receive low-value credentials, accumulate debt, and waste their limited benefits at schools that offer little academic rigor and even less career mobility. When those credits don’t transfer—or worse, when degrees are rejected by employers—the burden falls squarely on the individual.

Institutions like American Public University System, University of Phoenix, Colorado Technical University, DeVry, and Purdue Global have collected tens of millions in DoD TA funding. Some are under state or federal investigation. Others have quietly changed ownership or rebranded. But the underlying model—targeting military students with high-volume, low-quality online programs—remains largely intact.

We Don’t Need Another Report

The time for reflection is over. The data from GAO, PwC, Gatehouse, and from our own FOIA investigations are clear. What remains is the political will to act.

The Department of Defense should immediately:

– Revoke TA eligibility for schools with documented abuse, federal scrutiny, or repeat MOU violations.
– Release the suppressed list of the worst-performing colleges, as identified under Executive Order 13607.
– Mandate transparent outcome reporting—including transferability, job placement, and default rates—for every school in the TA program.
– Sever ties with lobbyist conduits like CCME that have enabled predatory behavior for decades.

This is not just a matter of bureaucratic reform—it is about justice. For the servicemembers who were deceived. For the families who sacrificed. For the taxpayers who unknowingly foot the bill for failure.

The Higher Education Inquirer will not stop pushing for those names, those documents, and that accountability. Behind every redaction is a veteran who trusted the system—and got scammed. Behind every delay is another student targeted by the same exploitative machinery. Behind every refusal to act is a government more loyal to profit than to people.

Related Reading
GAO-14-855: DoD Education Benefits Oversight Lacking
Military Times (2018): DoD review finds 0% of schools following TA rules
Military Times (2019): Schools are struggling to meet TA rules, but DoD isn’t punishing them. Here’s why.

HEI and the Backstage of Higher Education

The Higher Education Inquirer (HEI) exists not to flatter the ivory tower, but to peer behind its stage curtains—into the backstage of higher education, where the hidden scripts are written and the illusions maintained.

For decades, mainstream media and college marketing machines have focused their attention on the front stage of higher education: gleaming campuses, smiling students, glowing success stories, and elite rankings. This curated image serves the interests of university administrators, politicians, media conglomerates, and Wall Street investors. But what lies behind the scenes is far more complex—and far more consequential for working families, indebted students, adjunct instructors, and the public at large.

Pulling Back the Curtain

HEI’s mission is to expose what Erving Goffman might call the “backstage” of academia: the place where the elite performance of higher education is rehearsed and maintained through opaque deals, digital enclosures, and predatory practices. It’s where the real business of higher education unfolds—often at odds with the public good.

We investigate the corporatization of the university, the abuse of contingent labor, the unpayable debts foisted on students, and the machinations of political operatives and private equity barons who have colonized education as a commodity. We speak with whistleblowers, student debtors, low-wage academic workers, and those abandoned by a system that promises mobility but too often delivers exploitation.

The Business of the Dream

In the backstage world of higher education, dreams are monetized. Institutions like the University of Phoenix, Grand Canyon University, and even respected nonprofits have built empires on financial aid schemes and manipulated metrics. Behind them are financiers, hedge funds, and lobbying firms whose interests are rarely aligned with students or educators.

The same institutions that publicly tout diversity and access often quietly outsource instruction to underpaid adjuncts, collaborate with surveillance edtech companies, and silence internal dissent. Meanwhile, media organizations that once held universities accountable have cut education reporters or become entangled with the very institutions they should be questioning.

The Hidden Curriculum

The Higher Education Inquirer operates as a counterforce to this manufactured consensus. We are not neutral. We are critical, investigative, and guided by a commitment to social justice, transparency, and truth-telling. We report not only what universities and policymakers say, but what they do—and whom their decisions harm.

Our coverage includes:

• Student debt and loan forgiveness, including the struggles of Corinthian Colleges alumni and the unfinished business of accountability.

• Adjunct labor and the two-tier academic caste system.

• Edtech’s empty promises, from learning analytics to AI hype.

• The political economy of elite universities, including their ties to hedge funds, Silicon Valley, and state power.

• Federal regulatory theater, where revolving doors between government and for-profit colleges remain a threat to the public interest.

From the Margins to the Archive

HEI serves a different audience—those who have been ignored or exploited by higher education's front-facing PR. We amplify stories from below and archive the struggles that mainstream outlets won’t touch.

We also aim to document history as it happens—before it’s rewritten by university presidents or erased by marketing teams. We provide a long memory in a system increasingly shaped by ahistorical metrics and technocratic solutions.

A Public Good Reclaimed

We don’t pretend to be objective bystanders. Our journalism is part of a larger struggle to reclaim education as a public good, not a private privilege. We call for solidarity with students, educators, and workers. We demand that institutions serve the people who make them run, not just the ones who profit from their prestige.

The backstage of higher education is messy, fraught, and at times devastating. But by pulling back the curtain, we believe there’s still a possibility of building something better.

Sources

• The Higher Education Inquirer archives

• Whistleblower accounts

• U.S. Department of Education public data and FOIA requests

• Interviews with contingent faculty and student debtors

• Academic research on neoliberalism, debt peonage, and credential capitalism

Are the Epstein Files the Watergate of Our Time?

In 1972, what began as a bungled break-in at the Democratic National Committee headquarters in Washington’s Watergate complex evolved into the most consequential political scandal in American history. It wasn’t the break-in itself that brought down President Richard Nixon—it was the coverup. Lies, payoffs, destroyed evidence, abuse of executive power, and a relentless pursuit of secrecy sealed Nixon’s fate.

Half a century later, the Jeffrey Epstein files are on a similar trajectory. What began as a tabloid sideshow—one man’s grotesque crimes against underage girls—has expanded into a sprawling network of implications: elite universities, billionaire financiers, royalty, technocrats, and intelligence agencies. And just like Watergate, the defining features of the Epstein scandal aren’t only the initial crimes—they’re the coverups, the deflections, and the institutional complicity.

A Scandal that Unfolds in Chapters

The Epstein story didn’t start with his death in 2019, and it certainly didn’t end there. He was investigated as early as the 2000s yet shielded by a sweetheart plea deal in 2008 that allowed him to serve minimal time for crimes that should have resulted in a much longer sentence. That deal—engineered by powerful lawyers and signed off by then-U.S. Attorney Alexander Acosta—was kept secret from his victims. It was only years later that investigative journalists, lawsuits, and survivors' voices pried open the narrative.

Now, like Watergate, the scandal is metastasizing. Documents are being unsealed. Names are being named. Flight logs, visitor lists, photographs, financial records—each leak peels back another layer of the rot.

Institutional Rot, From the Top Down

Watergate wasn’t just a story of Nixon. It implicated the Republican National Committee, the CIA, the FBI, the “Plumbers” unit, and a pliant media and political class that initially hesitated to challenge the president. In a similar fashion, the Epstein Files have exposed systemic failures: from elite prep schools and Ivy League universities to global charities, private equity firms, and even U.S. intelligence operatives.

Epstein and his accomplice Ghislaine Maxwell didn’t operate alone. They thrived within a network of institutional silence. Epstein was welcomed at Harvard, funded by billionaires like Leslie Wexner, and given extraordinary leniency by prosecutors. The failure of universities to sever ties or meaningfully investigate their own connections to Epstein even after his 2008 conviction raises profound questions about the moral and financial capture of higher education.

Who wrote the letters of recommendation for Epstein? Who invited him to donor events, to academic conferences, to think tanks? What projects did he fund, and what strings came attached?

The Coverup Is the Crime

Much like Nixon’s use of hush money and illegal surveillance, the most damning revelations around Epstein involve the lengths powerful people have gone to erase their ties to him. Redacted documents. Sealed depositions. Delayed FOIA requests. Lost visitor logs. Sudden retirements and vague institutional statements.

Corporate media, until recently, treated the Epstein case as either too salacious or too risky. ABC News famously shelved a major investigation in 2015. Several news outlets still soft-pedal the extent of his connections to tech giants, universities, and political figures across both parties. The deafening silence has often been more telling than what is reported.

Yet the momentum is building—slowly, relentlessly. Like the drip-drip-drip of Watergate, what seemed like isolated facts are cohering into a more damning pattern. Epstein wasn’t just a lone predator. He was a central node in a larger architecture of exploitation, enabled by elite respectability, money, and the hunger for power.

Higher Education’s Reckoning

The Higher Education Inquirer has been tracking how elite institutions have served not only as places of learning but also as sanctuaries of elite impunity. In the case of Epstein, this includes:

• Harvard University, which accepted millions from Epstein even after his conviction and granted him office space.

• MIT’s Media Lab, whose director Joi Ito resigned after revelations he solicited Epstein’s donations.

• The Rockefeller University, where Epstein sat on the board and mingled with researchers.

• Multiple academic scientists and economists, some of whom continued to associate with Epstein, take his money, or attend events at his private island.

These universities are not just incidental characters in this drama. They are complicit actors—providing legitimacy, laundering reputations, and perpetuating a culture of silence in exchange for funding and access.

Will There Be Accountability?

Watergate ultimately led to resignations, prosecutions, and a moment of institutional introspection. It also helped usher in reforms—some lasting, some temporary.

Will the Epstein saga yield the same? That remains to be seen.

Powerful institutions are betting on public fatigue. They’re hoping the files will dribble out slowly enough, redacted enough, buried behind other headlines. But history suggests that scandals like these don’t simply vanish. They fester. They resurface. And they eventually break through.

For the public, the Epstein Files are not just about one predator or even his elite network. They’re about a system that protects predators, buries truths, and sells out its integrity for money and access.

Watergate didn’t end with a break-in; it ended with the fall of a president.

The Epstein scandal may yet claim its own giants—if the truth is allowed to breathe.

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The Higher Education Inquirer will continue its investigation into the role of universities in the Epstein network. If you have information to share, reach out to us securely.

Higher Education Inquirer Nears One Million Views: Investigative Journalism Drives Unprecedented Growth

The Higher Education Inquirer (HEI) is approaching a significant milestone: nearly one million total views expected by September 2025. This achievement underscores the growing demand for investigative journalism that holds higher education institutions accountable.

HEI's traffic growth has been steady for more than a year with an explosive rise over the last few months. In the first quarter of 2025, the site recorded about 132,000 views, showing increased interest. By June, monthly views passed 160,000. The highest single-day traffic came yesterday, July 21, 2025, with 10,391 views, breaking previous records. This peak coincided with the release of several articles on economic and social issues facing students, student loan debtors, and young workers.

Key articles included Bryan Alexander’s examination of whether higher education still makes financial sense for students. Our staff contributed reports on young workers’ declining confidence in the job market and the expanding role of fintech companies like SoFi in student loans.

HEI also covers broader social and political topics. An article on June 25 about Gaza’s humanitarian crisis and campus dissent drew hundreds of views, showing the publication’s interest in global issues related to academic freedom and student activism.

One of the most significant examples of HEI’s investigative reporting has been its ongoing coverage of corruption and scandal in the Los Angeles Community College District (LACCD). In May and June 2025, HEI published detailed exposés documenting alleged fraud, retaliation against whistleblowers, grade manipulation, wage theft, and falsification of faculty credentials. These stories brought to light longstanding issues within LACCD, including actions by administrators such as Annie G. Reed, whose conduct has repeatedly raised serious concerns since at least 2016.

The impact of HEI’s coverage extended beyond readership numbers. After critical articles published by allied independent media outlets were removed from online platforms, HEI stood firm in reporting these issues, highlighting the challenges faced by whistleblowers and the vital role of independent journalism in holding institutions accountable.

In July 2025, HEI published an in-depth investigation revealing the Pentagon's longstanding relationship with for-profit colleges, particularly through the Council of College and Military Educators (CCME). The investigation uncovered how these institutions have exploited military-connected students, veterans, and their families, benefiting from federal programs like the Post-9/11 GI Bill and Department of Defense Tuition Assistance. Despite multiple Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests, the Department of Defense has withheld critical documents, raising questions about transparency and accountability in military education partnerships.

Additionally, HEI's reporting on the exploitation of veterans under the guise of service highlighted how politicians, government agencies, and nonprofits have failed to protect those who have served. The investigation revealed that instead of supporting veterans, these entities have perpetuated systems that prioritize self-interest over the well-being of veterans, leading to wasted benefits and poor educational outcomes.

Several factors explain HEI’s growth. The publication relies on original documents obtained through Freedom of Information Act requests, legal filings, and insider accounts to reveal facts often missed by mainstream media. This research appeals to readers seeking solid information.

Contributions from scholars and activists like Bryan Alexander, Henry Giroux, David Halperin, and Michael Hainline add context that helps readers understand education trends and policies.

HEI focuses on long-term issues such as adjunct faculty exploitation, college closures, student debt, and the privatization of public education, rather than fleeting news. This approach builds a loyal audience interested in ongoing analysis.

The site offers free access without paywalls or advertising, encouraging sharing and reader interaction through comments, tips, and feedback. Its presence on social media and forums like Reddit helps reach more readers organically.

Central to HEI’s mission is a commitment to transparency, accountability, and value in higher education. The publication seeks not only to reveal problems but also to hold institutions and policymakers responsible. HEI stresses that higher education must deliver real financial, social, and intellectual value and that openness is key to achieving this.

The political and economic context has also contributed to HEI’s growth. Lasting effects of Trump-era policies—such as changes in Title IX enforcement, rollbacks of diversity efforts, and disputes over federal funding—have increased public interest. HEI’s clear, evidence-based coverage helps readers understand these complex changes.

Public concerns about rising student debt, now over $1.7 trillion nationwide, and doubts about the value of college degrees have also driven readers to HEI. At the same time, debates around campus culture and diversity heighten demand for balanced reporting.

As HEI nears its million-view goal, it plans to expand investigative work, grow its viewership base, and increase community engagement through interactive features and reader participation. The publication intends to continue monitoring higher education’s power structures and highlight factors affecting students, faculty, and institutions.

In a time of declining trust in mainstream media and widespread misinformation, HEI’s growth shows a strong need for journalism that is thorough, honest, and focused on those involved in higher education.

For readers seeking clear, direct insight on changes in colleges and universities, HEI offers an essential platform—living up to its motto, “Ahead of the Learned Herd.” Its rise marks a shift toward more accountable journalism in the field.

Degrees of Distraction: Clickbait Culture in Higher Education Media

A growing number of mass-market media outlets like MSN are flooding social media and news aggregators with listicle-style content that oversimplifies the complex realities of higher education. These articles—such as “These 16 College Majors Lead Straight to Debt and Disappointment,” “How Student Loan Debt Can Ruin Your Life,” and “The 10 Most Difficult College Degrees & The 10 Easiest”—traffic in anxiety and fear. They promise clarity but offer only distraction, substituting nuanced analysis with sensational headlines and shallow comparisons.

The underlying message of these articles is rarely subtle: if you pick the wrong major or underestimate the burden of student loans, you’re doomed. The reader is often shown a carousel of exaggerated personal stories, stripped of context and reduced to cautionary tales. At the same time, the articles ignore the broader, systemic forces that have made higher education more financially perilous for millions of Americans.

By presenting debt as a purely personal failure rather than a predictable outcome of policy decisions, financial deregulation, and corporate capture, these pieces shift the blame away from institutions and onto individual students. They rarely address how college costs have skyrocketed while wages have stagnated, how the Department of Education has been gutted and restructured, or how student loan servicing companies routinely mislead borrowers with little accountability. They don’t examine the role of for-profit schools, accreditors, or real estate developers profiting from campus-adjacent housing. Nor do they challenge the myth that higher education is a guaranteed path to upward mobility.

Instead, they pit majors against each other. Humanities, social sciences, and creative arts are portrayed as reckless luxuries. STEM majors are celebrated as pragmatic, even though the return on investment depends heavily on where one studies, who one knows, and whether one can persist in often toxic or exclusionary academic cultures. Even the categorization of “difficult” versus “easy” majors is misleading, based more on GPA averages than actual workload, long-term intellectual challenge, or student engagement.

This kind of journalism contributes to a growing anti-intellectualism. It discourages students from following their passions or pursuing degrees that may not yield high financial returns but are essential to a functioning democracy. It feeds a cultural narrative that sees college as a consumer transaction rather than a public good. The result is a media ecosystem where student fear becomes a revenue stream, and informed decision-making is replaced by click-through bait.

These articles also crowd out deeper investigations. Where is the coverage of ongoing borrower defense claims against predatory schools? Where is the sustained attention to the impact of private equity in education? Where is the reporting on how schools game federal regulations like Gainful Employment or misuse nonprofit status to enrich executives? Instead of informing readers about these realities, MSN and similar platforms serve up recycled headlines designed to generate outrage, not insight.

The Higher Education Inquirer calls for a higher standard of reporting—one that holds power to account and equips students with more than slogans and salary charts. Young people navigating college in 2025 are not fools or naive dreamers. They are facing an increasingly rigged game, one that demands critical thinking, not consumer shaming. They deserve journalism that investigates, not indoctrinates.

Sources
MSN: “These 16 College Majors Lead Straight to Debt and Disappointment”
MSN: “How Student Loan Debt Can Ruin Your Life”
MSN: “The 10 Most Difficult College Degrees & The 10 Easiest”
National Center for Education Statistics
The Institute for College Access and Success
The Century Foundation
Department of Education FOIA archives
Higher Education Inquirer investigations on student loan fraud and federal oversight

FOIA Request Seeks Updated Borrower Defense Data from U.S. Department of Education

The Higher Education Inquirer has submitted a new Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request to the U.S. Department of Education seeking updated data on Borrower Defense to Repayment (BDR) claims.

Specifically, the request asks for the latest report generated from the Department’s Consumer Engagement Management System (CEMS)—the internal platform that tracks borrower complaints and federal discharge decisions related to school misconduct and misrepresentation. The request mirrors a prior release, FOIA Request No. 22-00011-F, which produced a 94-page report itemizing all institutions with BDR claims, the number of applications per school, and their adjudication status (approved, denied, pending, or closed).

This new request covers the period from July 15, 2024 through July 13, 2025, a timeframe that includes a volatile political year, further fallout from collapsed for-profit schools, ongoing litigation, and changes in regulatory enforcement under a fractured Department of Education.

The goal of this FOIA request is to provide the public with clear, updated, and comprehensive insight into which schools—across all sectors—continue to generate complaints from borrowers who claim they were misled or defrauded. These data are vital for researchers, journalists, legal advocates, and students trying to navigate an often opaque and treacherous higher education marketplace.

The original CEMS disclosure from 2022 helped illuminate systemic abuse, particularly among large for-profit college chains and online universities. It also revealed how some nonprofit and public institutions had quietly accumulated significant numbers of BDR claims, often with little media scrutiny or regulatory response.

The current FOIA request follows growing public concern over borrower protections, the fairness and efficiency of the BDR process, and the lack of institutional accountability. While the Department of Education has discharged billions in student debt under expanded BDR rules in recent years, critics argue that transparency has been lacking—especially as political and legal pressure intensifies.

In submitting this request, the Higher Education Inquirer reaffirms its commitment to independent, investigative journalism focused on the intersection of education, debt, and power. Once the data are released, HEI will analyze and publish key findings to expose patterns of harm, regulatory failure, and corporate influence—wherever they may lie.

Source:
FOIA Request No. 25-04397-F, U.S. Department of Education, July 13, 2025
Prior FOIA Disclosure: FOIA 22-00011-F, released 2022 (94-page CEMS report)

FOIA Requests Are Foundational to HEI Research

The Higher Education Inquirer has filed 34 Freedom of Information requests with the US Department of Education over the last two years.  The documents that we receive have been essential ingredients in the legitimacy of our articles.  We also submit FOIA requests to the Federal Trade Commission, the Department of Veterans Affairs, and the Department of Defense, as well as media requests with the State Department and Securities and Exchange Commission.  As a public service, we also provide the documents, in digital form, at no cost to those who request them.  

 

HEI Files FOIA to Expose Delays and Disparities in Borrower Defense Discharges

The Higher Education Inquirer has submitted a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request to the U.S. Department of Education, seeking critical data on Borrower Defense to Repayment claims tied to some of the most notorious for-profit and career college chains in the United States. Filed on July 13, 2025, and formally acknowledged by the Department on July 14, this request seeks to uncover how many borrowers have received student debt relief, how many remain in limbo, and how many have been left in the dark despite being eligible.

The FOIA request includes a list of institutions with long histories of documented fraud, federal investigations, lawsuits, and closures. These include Corinthian Colleges (which operated Everest, Heald, and WyoTech), ITT Technical Institute, Westwood College, Marinello Schools of Beauty, the Art Institutes, Argosy University, American National University, Charlotte School of Law, DeVry University, Globe University/Minnesota School of Business, Independence University, Kaplan College/Kaplan University, Le Cordon Bleu, Missouri College, Mount Washington College, University of Phoenix, Virginia College, and Vatterott College.

For each institution, the Inquirer is requesting the number of borrowers identified for group discharge under the Borrower Defense authority. Of those, we are asking how many have had their loans discharged, how many cases remain pending, how many borrowers have been approved for discharge but not yet notified, and how many claims overlap with the class-action lawsuit Sweet v. McMahon (formerly Sweet v. Cardona and Sweet v. DeVos). For Corinthian Colleges specifically, the request also asks for the number of discharged borrowers under previous Department announcements and how many were also part of the Manriquez v. McMahon or Sweet settlements.

This data request covers the one-year period from July 13, 2024, to July 13, 2025, and asks for results in a structured, electronic format, preferably Excel.

The significance of this request cannot be overstated. Despite multiple well-publicized borrower defense settlements and mass discharge announcements, many defrauded students still have no clear idea whether they qualify for relief or when it might arrive. While the Department has made headlines for forgiving billions in student debt, especially for borrowers from predatory for-profit schools, those announcements often lack transparency and specificity. The FOIA request aims to fill those gaps and provide an accurate picture of the Department’s implementation of debt relief and justice for defrauded borrowers.

The Department of Education’s FOIA Service Center responded that the request has been received and is in queue. No further clarification is needed at this time, and no fees have been assessed. The Department did note that the current average processing time is 185 business days—over nine months. This timeline means that meaningful public disclosure may not happen until spring 2026, even as policymakers, advocates, and student debtors continue to push for faster relief and more accountability.

This FOIA request is part of the Higher Education Inquirer's ongoing efforts to investigate the afterlife of failed for-profit colleges, the bureaucratic delays in loan discharges, and the long shadow these schools have cast over the lives of working-class students. In many cases, these students were the first in their families to attend college and were aggressively targeted by institutions that promised fast-track careers and delivered financial ruin instead.

We will continue to monitor the Department’s response and will publish any findings we receive. If you are a former student of one of these schools and have filed a Borrower Defense claim—or have questions about whether you qualify—we invite you to share your experience. Your voice matters, and transparency is key to understanding how widespread the damage remains.

Contact the Higher Education Inquirer at gmcghee@aya.yale.edu.

Sources
U.S. Department of Education FOIA Acknowledgment Letter, July 14, 2025
FOIA Request No. 25-04397-F
Sweet v. Cardona (formerly Sweet v. DeVos), Case No. 19-cv-03674, N.D. Cal.
Manriquez v. DeVos, Case No. 3:17-cv-07210, N.D. Cal.
U.S. Department of Education Borrower Defense Updates – studentaid.gov

The Functional Poverty of US Higher Education

In 1971, sociologist Herbert J. Gans published The Positive Functions of Poverty, a provocative essay that argued poverty persists not due to a lack of solutions, but because it benefits powerful institutions. Over fifty years later, his thesis haunts U.S. higher education, which does not merely reflect inequality but actively relies on it. The system functions less as an engine of mobility and more as a mechanism for managing and monetizing the poor.

Today, poverty is not an accident of the US higher education system—it is a prerequisite for its operation.

Poverty as Institutional Legitimacy

Colleges and universities frequently promote themselves as pathways out of poverty, showcasing stories of Pell Grant recipients and first-generation students to validate their missions. These narratives help secure federal funding, private donations, and political goodwill. Yet the vast majority of poor students never cross the commencement stage. Instead, their presence serves to bolster institutional credibility while masking the reality of systemic failure.

Programs like TRIO, GEAR UP, and Promise scholarships function not to eliminate poverty, but to manage it. They offer modest hope while ensuring the system continues undisturbed.

Poor Students as a Revenue Stream

The financial foundation of higher education rests heavily on low-income students. For-profit colleges, many of them reincarnated under new branding or partnerships, depend almost entirely on federal aid and student loans tied to impoverished enrollees. These institutions aggressively recruit students with big promises and deliver little in return. Graduation rates remain dismal, while student debt mounts.

Private student lenders have filled the remaining gaps left by federal aid caps and rising tuition. Fintech platforms like SoFi, College Ave, and Earnest offer loans with complex terms and minimal consumer protections, particularly to vulnerable students desperate for access. For many borrowers, this creates a lifetime of indebtedness for a credential that may never yield a return.

The Administrative Industry of Poverty

A burgeoning sector of higher education administration is devoted to managing the symptoms of poverty. Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) offices—now under political assault—often oversee food banks, mental health outreach, and “resilience” programming for first-gen students. Meanwhile, a growing HR specialty has emerged to “track and support” the poor.

These staffers may act with sincere intention, but their existence also reveals the transactional nature of institutional concern. Without poor students to manage, their roles—and the bureaucracies behind them—would shrink. Food insecurity and academic struggle have become normalized to the point that colleges maintain food pantries as a permanent feature of campus life.

Exploiting the Educated Underclass

As sociologist Gary Roth has observed, higher education produces a surplus of credentialed workers with no corresponding demand. These graduates, often from poor backgrounds, return to campus as adjunct faculty, graduate assistants, or gig workers—essential but expendable.

Their labor sustains the system at low cost. They teach core courses, staff libraries, and support faculty research while earning poverty wages themselves. The promise of education becomes a loop of unfulfilled mobility.

Poor Students as Research Subjects

Low-income students are not only sources of revenue and labor—they are also the subjects of academic research. Entire disciplines, from sociology to education and public health, have been built upon the study of poverty. Yet few researchers challenge the institutional structures that perpetuate the very inequalities they document.

Faculty careers flourish. Tenure is won. Grants are secured. The students themselves often see no tangible benefit from this knowledge production.

Reinforcing the Myth of Meritocracy

Elite universities use a handful of poor students to validate the myth of meritocracy. These “success stories” are amplified through PR campaigns, donor appeals, and glossy admissions brochures. They function as symbolic proof that the system works—even as the vast majority of poor students are shunted into lower-tier institutions with fewer resources and worse outcomes.

The truth is clear: wealth remains the strongest predictor of educational success in the United States.

Stratification by Design

The U.S. higher education system is structured to reproduce class hierarchy. Community colleges and regional public universities disproportionately enroll poor and working-class students. Flagship publics and elite privates cater to the children of the professional and ruling classes.

This credentialing hierarchy maintains social order while offering just enough upward mobility to justify its existence.

Political Utility: Blame the Poor

When institutions face financial shortfalls or declining enrollment, they often scapegoat the poor. Students are labeled unprepared, unmotivated, or emotionally fragile. Rarely are structural causes—such as rising tuition, defunded public services, or predatory loan systems—acknowledged.

Neoliberal reforms and conservative attacks on “woke” education continue to target vulnerable populations, obscuring the institutional failures that drive inequity.

Private Equity and the Monetization of Student Housing

One of the latest frontiers in the commodification of poverty within higher education is campus-adjacent real estate. Private equity (PE) firms are aggressively acquiring student housing near flagship state universities, turning basic shelter into another site of financial extraction.

Evidence of PE Expansion:
Private equity firms such as Investcorp, Rockpoint, and KKR have amassed significant portfolios of student housing near schools like the University of Florida, University of Texas at Austin, and College of Charleston. These acquisitions are not random—they target institutions with large, stable enrollment and limited new housing supply.

Rents on the Rise:
In cities like Tampa, rents increased by 49% from 2019 to 2023—a jump partly attributed to institutional investors, although the exact role of PE firms in driving this increase is contested. Still, anecdotal reports and advocacy groups point to rising rents, increased fees, and aggressive management practices following PE takeovers.

Housing Scarcity as Leverage:
While it's difficult to isolate private equity's influence from broader housing shortages and enrollment growth, it's clear that PE is exploiting structural constraints—just as for-profit colleges exploit financial aid loopholes. Where public universities fail to build sufficient housing, private investors step in, profiting from desperation.

A System That Needs Poverty

Herbert Gans argued that poverty survives because it serves essential functions for society’s powerful institutions. In American higher education, this dynamic is not theoretical—it is lived reality. Colleges and universities don’t just educate the poor; they extract value from them at every level.

From student loans and real estate speculation to adjunct labor and administrative bloat, the system is built around managing—not eradicating—poverty.

Until higher education confronts its own complicity in perpetuating structural inequality, it will remain what it is today: an industry that feeds on hope, and thrives on hardship.

Sources
Gans, Herbert J. “The Positive Functions of Poverty.” American Journal of Sociology, 1971.
Roth, Gary. The Educated Underclass: Students and the Promise of Social Mobility. Pluto Press, 2019.
National Center for Education Statistics (NCES)
U.S. Department of Education, College Scorecard
Private Equity Stakeholder Project
RealPage Analytics
Advocacy reports on student housing and rent inflation
Higher Education Inquirer FOIA research files

University of Phoenix Uses “Sandwich Moms” to Sell a Debt Trap

In a recent blog post republished on LinkedIn, the University of Phoenix casts itself as a champion for the “sandwich generation” of working mothers—those who are simultaneously raising children and caring for aging parents. The post, co-branded with the lifestyle platform Motherly, portrays the for-profit university as a source of hope for exhausted, career-stalled caregivers. It offers empathy, statistics, and stories about resilience. But what it doesn’t offer is transparency about the financial harm the University of Phoenix has caused to hundreds of thousands of women just like them.

Behind the compassionate messaging is a decades-long record of exploitation, debt, and broken promises. According to data obtained through Freedom of Information Act requests and analyzed by the Higher Education Inquirer, nearly one million former University of Phoenix students owe a combined $21.6 billion in student loan debt. That includes many single mothers and caregivers who were targeted by Phoenix recruiters with promises of flexible degrees and life-changing job opportunities.

The average borrower carries more than $22,000 in federal student debt, and many have seen little to no return on that investment. Worse, tens of thousands of former students have filed Borrower Defense claims with the U.S. Department of Education, asserting that they were defrauded by the university. At least 19,000 of these claims have already been approved as part of the Sweet v. Cardona class action settlement. Phoenix was one of dozens of schools whose practices were deemed harmful enough to merit loan cancellation.

Despite this troubling history, the University of Phoenix continues to market itself as a solution to the very problems it helps perpetuate. The blog post in question focuses on how caregiving responsibilities are limiting women’s careers and how many moms are afraid to speak openly about their dual roles at work. These are serious and well-documented social issues. But the proposed solution—enrolling in a Phoenix program—too often leads to more financial pressure rather than less.

The Higher Education Inquirer has filed multiple FOIA requests related to the University of Phoenix and its pending acquisition by the University of Idaho through Apollo Global Management and the Vistria Group. These include documents related to the total student debt associated with the university, the volume and status of fraud claims, and protective provisions tied to federal liabilities. Taxpayers in Idaho may soon be responsible for this debt legacy, should the controversial acquisition proceed.

None of this is disclosed in Phoenix’s marketing materials. There is no mention of the $191 million settlement with the Federal Trade Commission for deceptive advertising. There is no reference to the school's declining enrollment, cratering reputation, or the tens of thousands of students who left without a degree. Instead, sandwich generation moms are offered inspiration and vague promises of career advancement through convenient online programs.

But convenience is no substitute for credibility. What mothers need are real systemic supports: paid family leave, affordable childcare and eldercare, union protections, and public investment in affordable education. They don’t need another layer of student loan debt imposed by a university with a well-documented record of exploiting their aspirations.

Phoenix’s message may resonate emotionally, but it is ultimately a predatory sales pitch disguised as empowerment. Until for-profit schools like Phoenix are held fully accountable—and until working families have access to genuine public alternatives—we must remain critical of marketing campaigns that prey on the vulnerable.

Sources
Higher Education Inquirer. “New Data Show Nearly a Million University of Phoenix Debtors Owe $21.6 Billion.” July 2024. https://www.highereducationinquirer.org/2024/07/new-data-show-nearly-million-university.html
Higher Education Inquirer. “Pending FOIAs Regarding the University of Phoenix.” December 2024. https://www.highereducationinquirer.org/2024/12/pending-foias-regarding-university-of.html
Federal Trade Commission. “University of Phoenix and Parent Company to Pay $191 Million to Settle FTC Charges.” December 2019. https://www.ftc.gov/news-events/news/press-releases/2019/12/university-phoenix-parent-company-pay-191-million-settle-ftc-charges-they-deceived-prospective-students
U.S. Department of Education. College Scorecard. https://collegescorecard.ed.gov/

What the Pentagon Doesn’t Want You to See: For-Profit Colleges in the Military-Industrial-Education Complex

[Editor's note: The Higher Education Inquirer has emailed these FOIA documents to ProPublica and the Republic Report.  We will send these documents to any additional media and any individuals who request for the information. We are also seeking experts who can help us review and decipher the information that has been released.]   

On July 3, 2025, the Higher Education Inquirer received the latest response from the U.S. Department of Defense (DoD) regarding FOIA request 22-F-1203—our most recent effort in a nearly eight-year campaign to uncover how subprime and for-profit colleges have preyed on military servicemembers, veterans, and their families. 

The response included confirmation that 1,420 pages of documents were located. But of those, 306 pages were withheld in full, and 1,114 were released only with heavy redactions.  A few for-profit colleges—Trident University International, Grand Canyon University, DeVry University, and American Public University System (which includes American Military University and American Public University)—were specifically mentioned in the partially visible content.

 

And yet the larger truth remains hidden. The names of other institutions known to have exploited military-connected students—University of Phoenix, Colorado Technical University, American InterContinental University, Purdue University Global, and Liberty University Online, among others—were nowhere to be found in the documents we received. Their absence is conspicuous.

We have been pursuing the truth since December 2017, demanding records that would reveal how the DoD enabled these schools to thrive. We sought the list of the 50 worst-performing colleges receiving Tuition Assistance (TA) funds, based on data compiled under Executive Order 13607 during the Obama Administration. That list was never released. When the Trump Administration took power in 2017, they quietly abandoned the protective measures meant to hold these colleges accountable. Our FOIA request DOD OIG-2019-000702 was denied, with the Pentagon claiming that no such list existed. A second request in 2021 (21-F-0411) was also rejected. And now, more than three years after we filed our 2022 request, the DoD continues to deny the public full access to the truth.

The records we did receive are riddled with legal exemptions: internal deliberations, privacy claims, and most notably, references to 10 U.S.C. § 4021, a law that allows the DoD to withhold details of research transactions outside of traditional grants and contracts. In other words, the Pentagon has built legal firewalls around its relationships with for-profit education providers—and continues to shield bad actors from scrutiny.

But the complicity doesn’t end there. It extends deep into the institutional fabric of how the military interfaces with higher education.

Decades of Systemic Corruption

Since the 1980s, the U.S. Department of Defense has worked hand-in-glove with for-profit colleges through a nonprofit called the Council of College and Military Educators (CCME). What began in the 1970s as a noble initiative to expand access to education for military personnel was hijacked by predatory colleges—including the University of Phoenix—that used the organization as a lobbying front.

These schools infiltrated CCME events, using them to curry favor with military officials, often by hiring veterans as on-base sales agents and even providing alcohol to loosen up potential gatekeepers. While CCME publicly maintained the appearance of academic integrity and service, behind the scenes it served as a conduit for lobbying, influence, and enrollment schemes. Military education officers were schmoozed, manipulated, and in some cases, quietly co-opted. This is something you won’t find in CCME’s official history.

We have been told by multiple insiders that the partnership between DoD and these schools was not just tolerated but actively nurtured. Attempts at reform came and went. Investigations were buried. Promises to "do better" evaporated. No one was held accountable. No one went to jail. But the damage has been lasting—measured in ruined credit, wasted benefits, and lives derailed by fraudulent degrees and broken promises.

The Trump-Hegseth Department of Defense

And still, new scandals—except those uncovered by us—go largely unreported. The media has moved on. Congressional attention has shifted. And the same schools, or their rebranded successors, continue to operate freely, often under the protective shadow of military partnerships.

Today, the DoD continues to deny that the DODOIG-2019-000702 list of the 50 worst schools even exists. But we know otherwise. Based on VA data, whistleblower accounts, and independent reporting, we are confident that this list was compiled—and buried. The question is why. And the answer may very well lie in the unredacted names of institutions too politically connected or too legally protected to be exposed.

The Higher Education Inquirer will not stop pushing for those names, those communications, and that accountability. Because behind every redaction is a servicemember who trusted the system—and got scammed. Behind every delay is a taxpayer footing the bill for worthless credentials. Behind every refusal to act is a government too intertwined with profit to protect its own people.

This is not just a story of bureaucratic inertia. It is a story of complicity at the highest levels. And it is ongoing.

Related links:
DoD review: 0% of schools following TA rules (Military Times, 2018)
Schools are struggling to meet TA rules, but DoD isn’t punishing them. Here’s why. (Military Times, 2019)

Tracking the Elusive Truth: The Higher Education Inquirer Seeks Decades of Bankruptcy Loan Forgiveness Data

In a modest but potentially revealing inquiry, the Higher Education Inquirer has submitted a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request to the U.S. Department of Education asking for a count of the number of student loans discharged in bankruptcy from 1965 to 2024. The request, dated June 10, 2025, was acknowledged the same day by the Department’s FOIA Service Center under FOIA Request No. 25-03954-F.

“The Higher Education Inquirer is requesting a count of the number of student loans forgiven in bankruptcy per year from 1965 to 2024.”

It’s a simple request with profound implications. While the nation debates student loan forgiveness through executive action and legislative reforms, the forgotten path of bankruptcy discharge—once a legally viable option for debt relief—has been quietly buried over the past several decades.

A Timeline of Restriction: The Death of Bankruptcy Relief

When the Higher Education Act of 1965 established federal student loans, they were treated like other forms of consumer debt. Borrowers could, in principle, discharge them through bankruptcy just like credit card debt or medical bills.

But that began to change in the late 1970s, as concerns over potential abuse of the system gained traction in Congress. In 1976, a new law prohibited the discharge of federal student loans in bankruptcy within the first five years of repayment unless the borrower could prove “undue hardship”—a vague standard that was rarely met.

From there, the restrictions only grew tighter:

• 1990: The waiting period for dischargeability was extended to seven years.

• 1998: The option to discharge federal student loans in bankruptcy for any reason other than “undue hardship” was eliminated entirely. This meant student loan borrowers had to meet the strict and often inaccessible hardship standard at all times.

• 2005: Under the Bankruptcy Abuse Prevention and Consumer Protection Act (BAPCPA), Congress extended the “undue hardship” requirement to most private student loans as well—effectively removing nearly all forms of bankruptcy relief from the table for student debtors.

These changes did not result from clear evidence of widespread abuse. Rather, they were fueled by myths of “deadbeat graduates” walking away from their obligations and by lobbying from banks, guaranty agencies, and debt collection firms that profited from non-dischargeable debt. Meanwhile, evidence of hardship among borrowers grew, especially for those who attended predatory for-profit colleges or dropped out without a degree.

The Brunner Barrier

The biggest obstacle for borrowers remains the so-called “Brunner test,” a three-prong legal standard established in a 1987 court case, Brunner v. New York State Higher Education Services Corp. It requires borrowers to prove:

1. They cannot maintain a minimal standard of living if forced to repay the loans,

2. Their financial situation is unlikely to improve, and

3. They made a good-faith effort to repay the loans.

Many judges interpreted these criteria narrowly, creating a virtually insurmountable hurdle. Borrowers with severe disabilities, advanced age, or long-term unemployment have been denied relief even when destitute.

What We Still Don’t Know

Despite these legal developments and the hardship they created, data on how many people have succeeded in discharging their student loans through bankruptcy remains remarkably scarce. Advocacy groups and journalists have long questioned why no federal agency tracks this information in a clear, public-facing format.

That’s what prompted the Higher Education Inquirer’s FOIA request—an effort to establish a factual baseline. We asked the Department of Education for an annual count of bankruptcy discharges involving student loans over a 60-year period, from 1965 to 2024.

The Bureaucratic Wall

According to the Department’s FOIA Service Center, the average processing time for such requests is currently 185 business days—about nine months. While the Department did not ask for clarification immediately, it reserves the right to do so within ten business days. Failure to respond to such a request would result in administrative closure of the FOIA—yet another form of delay that keeps the public in the dark.

This bureaucratic stonewalling is part of a larger pattern. While the Department of Education has been quick to announce student loan forgiveness programs under executive orders or settlement agreements, it remains reluctant to shine a light on longstanding failures—especially the erosion of legal remedies like bankruptcy.

A Step Toward Truth and Accountability

The public deserves a clear view of the history and consequences of stripping bankruptcy protections from student borrowers. It’s not just a legal matter—it’s a story of systemic neglect, political pressure, and financial exploitation. Without access to historical data, reform remains a guesswork operation and accountability remains elusive.

We at the Higher Education Inquirer will continue to press for answers. If and when the FOIA request is fulfilled, we will publish the data and conduct a thorough analysis, year by year. We believe that exposing the truth about student loan bankruptcy isn’t just a matter of curiosity—it’s a step toward justice.

If you have experience with student loan bankruptcy, data that could assist our investigation, or simply want to share your story, contact us at gmcghee@aya.yale.edu.

The Higher Education Inquirer’s Dramatic Rise in Viewership

The Higher Education Inquirer has experienced a dramatic surge in readership in recent months, defying the odds in a media ecosystem dominated by corporate influence, algorithmic manipulation, and declining public trust. Without the benefit of advertising dollars, search engine optimization tactics, or institutional backing, the Inquirer has built an expanding audience on the strength of its investigative rigor, academic credibility, and fearless confrontation of power in higher education.

The Inquirer’s success lies in its refusal to chase headlines or appease stakeholders. Instead, it examines the underlying systems that have shaped the American higher education crisis—escalating student debt, the exploitation of adjunct faculty, administrative overreach, the encroachment of private equity, and the weakening of regulatory oversight. Its reporting draws directly from primary source documents: internal university records, SEC filings, FOIA requests, and government data from the U.S. Department of Education, Department of Veterans Affairs, and other public institutions. Readers trust the Higher Education Inquirer not simply because it is independent, but because it is evidence-based and relentlessly honest.

This journalistic integrity has attracted a diverse and influential group of contributors whose work amplifies the publication’s reach and credibility. Among them is David Halperin, an attorney, journalist, and watchdog who has long held the for-profit college industry accountable. Halperin’s sharp investigative writing has helped shape federal policy, inform regulatory action, and expose the inner workings of a powerful, often unregulated sector of higher education.

Other essential contributors include Henry Giroux, whose writing connects neoliberalism, authoritarianism, and education policy; Bryan Alexander, who offers foresight into technological and demographic changes shaping the future of academia; and Michael Hainline, who combines investigative rigor with grassroots activism. Together, these voices reflect a commitment to intellectual diversity grounded in a shared mission: to make sense of a higher education system in crisis, and to imagine alternatives.

HEI's timing could not be more significant. As student loan debt hits historic levels, public confidence in higher education erodes, and international students reassess their futures in the United States, people are seeking answers—and not from the usual pundits or PR firms. They’re turning to sources like the Inquirer that offer clarity, accountability, and a refusal to look away from injustice.

With more than 700 articles and videos in its growing archive, the Inquirer has become a vital resource for researchers, journalists, educators, and activists alike. And unlike many mainstream outlets, it remains open-access, free of paywalls and advertising clutter. It encourages participation from readers through anonymous tips, public commentary, and shared research, building a collaborative community that extends beyond the screen.

Last week, more than 30,000 readers visited the site—a significant number for an independent, ad-free platform. But more than numbers, this growth signals a shift in how people consume and value journalism. It shows that there is a real appetite for media that holds power accountable, that prioritizes substance over spectacle, and that dares to tell the truth even when it’s inconvenient.

The Higher Education Inquirer is not chasing influence—it’s earning it. Through fearless reporting, scholarly insight, and a commitment to justice, it has become a trusted voice in the fight to reclaim higher education as a public good. And with its core group of contributors continuing to inform and inspire, the Inquirer is poised to grow even further, serving as a beacon for those who believe that education—and journalism—should serve the people, not the powerful.

Liberty University Targeting Vets for Robocollege Master's Degrees

Liberty University, one of the largest Christian universities in the world, has built an educational empire by promoting conservative values and offering flexible online degree programs to hundreds of thousands of students. But behind the pious branding and patriotic marketing lies a troubling pattern: Liberty University Online has become a master’s degree debt factory, churning out credentials of questionable value while generating billions in student loan debt.

Massive Debt Load: New Federal Data

The Higher Education Inquirer has recently received a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) response (25-01939-F) confirming the staggering financial footprint of Liberty University’s loan-driven model. According to the data, more than 290,000 Liberty University student loan debtors collectively owe over $8 billion in federal student loan debt.

This figure places Liberty among the nation’s top producers of student debt, especially at the graduate level. The data underscores the scale of Liberty’s online operation—and raises serious concerns about the value students are receiving in return for their investment.

From Moral Majority to Mass Marketing

Founded in 1971 by televangelist Jerry Falwell Sr., Liberty University was created to train “Champions for Christ.” In the 2000s, the university reinvented itself through online education, growing from a modest evangelical college into a global mega-university. Today, nearly 95,000 students are enrolled online—most of them nontraditional learners pursuing graduate credentials in fields like education, business, counseling, and theology.

This transformation was powered by digital marketing, religious rhetoric, and direct appeals to working adults and veterans. But what has emerged is a high-volume, low-engagement “robocollege” model that has led to massive student debt and mixed outcomes.

A For-Profit Model in Nonprofit Clothing

Though it operates as a nonprofit, Liberty functions much like a for-profit college. Its online programs generate an estimated $1 billion in annual revenue, mostly through federal student aid and military education benefits.

Students are funneled into fast-tracked, eight-week master’s programs that promise convenience but often fail to deliver quality or post-graduate opportunity. According to U.S. Department of Education data, median graduate student debt at Liberty ranges from $40,000 to $70,000, while returns on investment—measured in earnings and job placement—are questionable at best.

Robocollege for Warriors

Liberty markets itself as a military-friendly institution and has enrolled over 40,000 military-affiliated students in recent years. Through patriotic branding and targeted discounts, the university appeals to service members seeking affordable, faith-based education.

However, Liberty does not extend military tuition discounts to LGBTQ spouses or partners, effectively excluding same-sex families from benefits offered to heterosexual military couples. This discriminatory policy contradicts federal nondiscrimination principles but has gone unchallenged by any federal oversight agency, including the U.S. Department of Education, the Department of Defense, and the Department of Veterans Affairs.

The absence of accountability underscores a broader pattern: religious institutions like Liberty continue to receive billions in public funds while applying selective moral frameworks to exclude marginalized communities.

Liberty’s discriminatory practices add insult to injury for LGBTQ military students and their families, who are asked to sacrifice for their country but denied equal access to educational support.

Automated, Ideologically Charged Learning

Liberty’s academic model is highly automated and often superficial. Online coursework typically consists of textbook readings, quizzes, and templated discussion posts—with little direct instruction or feedback from faculty. Many students report that religious ideology is embedded in even technical fields, from business to engineering.

“They put scripture in every assignment—sometimes where it makes no sense,” said one former student.
“It’s more like an indoctrination pipeline than a graduate school,” added a military spouse who withdrew from the program.

Liberty’s online aviation program came under fire in 2023 when the VA suspended GI Bill payments due to quality concerns. Veterans were left stranded mid-program, forced to pause their education or self-fund tuition after losing federal support.

A Dual Identity: Race and Class Divides

Liberty’s racial and socioeconomic divides are stark. Its residential campus in Lynchburg, Virginia, is 74% white, with just 4% of students identifying as Black, 5% Latino, and 2% Asian or Pacific Islander. The number of African American students on campus has declined in recent years, even as national college demographics diversify.

This imbalance reflects Liberty’s historical roots: founder Jerry Falwell Sr. publicly defended racial segregation and opposed civil rights legislation in the 1960s. While Liberty has distanced itself from these positions rhetorically, the legacy remains visible in the composition and culture of the on-campus student body.

In contrast, Liberty University Online (LUO) is much more diverse. In 2017, only 51% of LUO undergraduates were white, and 15.4% identified as Black. Many LUO students are older, work full-time, and represent the multiracial, working-class America that Liberty’s campus culture does not reflect or represent.

Exploiting Faith and Patriotism

Liberty’s marketing presents education as a spiritual and patriotic calling—especially appealing to military families and first-generation students seeking purpose and stability. But behind the inspirational messaging lies a hard financial truth: many students are left with heavy debt and degrees that may not align with licensure standards or employer expectations.

Liberty pours resources into advertising and retention but spends comparatively little on faculty pay, student advising, or academic support. Complaints about misleading information, difficulty transferring credits, and job placement struggles are common.

Lack of Oversight, Political Protection

Despite numerous scandals—including leadership resignations, sexual misconduct coverups, and allegations of financial mismanagement—Liberty continues to operate with limited regulatory scrutiny. Its nonprofit status and political influence, particularly within conservative circles, shield it from the kind of oversight faced by for-profit colleges.

During the Trump administration, higher education accountability was dramatically weakened, giving Liberty and similar institutions near-total freedom to expand unchecked. That permissive environment remains largely intact.

A Cautionary Tale in Christian Capitalism

Liberty University’s rise reveals a troubling convergence of religion, profit, and political power. What’s marketed as moral education is often little more than credential inflation funded by public debt. And for students of color, LGBTQ families, and military veterans, the promises of upward mobility too often end in disappointment—and financial ruin.

With more than 290,000 Liberty student loan debtors owing over $8 billion, the scale of Liberty’s impact on the nation’s student debt crisis is undeniable. Yet its discriminatory practices, especially against LGBTQ military families, go unanswered by federal authorities.

For an institution claiming to train "Champions for Christ," Liberty’s actions tell a different story—one where profit is paramount, and equity is an afterthought.

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The Higher Education Inquirer will continue investigating Liberty University and similar institutions, particularly those profiting from vulnerable populations under the banners of faith, freedom, and flag.