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Saturday, August 30, 2025

Pigs on Parade: The University of Phoenix IPO

Apollo Global Management and Vistria have an offer only a pig would consider: the Phoenix Education Partners IPO.

Touted by Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs, Bank of Montreal, Jefferies, and Apollo Global Securities, the offering of Phoenix Education Partners brings the University of Phoenix (UoPX) back to public markets—but few fans remain in the audience.


A Decade of Decline: From Expansion to Erosion

In the early 2000s, UoPX was hailed as a pioneering force in adult education—cozy campuses near freeway exits and an advanced online infrastructure for working learners earned praise. Its founder John Sperling was seen as visionary.

But by 2010 enrollment had already begun plummeting after reaching nearly 470,000 students, and the school’s academic quality and recruiting ethics were under the microscope. Critics decried “The Matrix,” a perverse scheme where recruiters were aggressively incentivized to push enrollments—no matter the cost.

By 2018, more than 450 locations had shuttered, enrollment was down by approximately 80%, and half the remaining sites were no longer accepting new students. Even Hawaii, Jersey City, Detroit, and other major cities were on the closure list.


Regulatory Fallout: Lawsuits, Settlements, and Borrower Defenses

From the early 2010s onward, UoPX saw an avalanche of legal scrutiny. In 2019, the FTC leveled a $191 million settlement against it for misleading advertising, including deceptive claims about job placement and corporate partnerships.

By late 2023, 73,740 borrower-defense claims had been filed by former students under federal programs. Many of these were settled under the Sweet v. Cardona class action, with estimates of the university’s potential liability ranging from $200 million to over $1 billion. Meanwhile, nearly one million debtors owed a combined $21.6 billion in student loans—about $22,000 per borrower on average.

Another flashpoint: UoPX agreed to pay $4.5 million in 2024 to settle investigations by California’s Attorney General over military-targeted recruiting tactics.


The Ownership Unicorn: Apollo, Vistria, and Political Backing

After Apollo Global Management and the Vistria Group acquired UoPX in 2016, the school became a commodified unit in a larger private equity portfolio. The deal brought in figures like Tony Miller, a political insider, as chairman—signaling strategic power play as much as financial management.

Vistria’s broader stable included Risepoint (previously Academic Partnerships), meaning both UoPX and OPM entities were controlled by one private-equity firm—drawing criticism for creating a “for-profit, online-education industrial complex.”


The IPO Circus: “Pigs on Parade”

Enter the Phoenix Education Partners IPO, steered onto the market with all the pomp of a carnival but none of the substance. The front-line banks—Morgan Stanley, Goldman Sachs, BMO, Jefferies, Apollo Global Securities—are being paid handsomely to dress up this distressed asset as a growth opportunity.

But here’s what those colorful floats hide:

  • Collapse, not comeback. Enrollment and campus infrastructure have withered.

  • Debt, not opportunity. Nearly a million debt-laden alumni owe $21.6 billion.

  • Liability, not credibility. Borrower defense claims and state investigations continue to mount.

  • Profit, not public good. Ownership is consolidated in private equity with political access, not academic mission.

This is a pig in parade attire. Investors are being asked to cheer for ribbon-cutting and banners, while the mud-stained hooves of exploitative business models trudge behind.


The HEI Verdict

This IPO isn’t a pivot toward better education—it’s a rebrand of an exploitative legacy. From aggressive recruitment of vulnerable populations (“sandwich moms,” military servicemembers) to mounting legal liabilities, the University of Phoenix remains the same broken system.

Investors, regulators, and the public must not be dazzled by slick packaging. The real story is one of failed promises, students carrying lifelong debt, and private equity cashing out. In education, as in livestock, parades are meant to show off—just make sure you're not cheering at the wrong spectacle.


Sources

  • Higher Education Inquirer. Search: University of Phoenix

  • Higher Education Inquirer. “The Slow-Motion Collapse of America’s Largest University” (2018)

  • Higher Education Inquirer. “University of Phoenix Collapse Kept Quiet” (2019)

  • Higher Education Inquirer. “Fraud Claims Against University of Phoenix” (2023)

  • Higher Education Inquirer. “University of Phoenix Uses ‘Sandwich Moms’ in Recruiting” (2025)

  • Higher Education Inquirer. “What Do the University of Phoenix and Risepoint Have in Common?” (2025)

  • Federal Trade Commission. “FTC Obtains $191 Million Settlement from University of Phoenix” (2019)

  • Sweet v. Cardona Settlement Documents (2022–2023)

  • California Attorney General. “University of Phoenix to Pay $4.5 Million Over Deceptive Military Recruiting” (2024)

Friday, August 22, 2025

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.


Sources

Friday, August 15, 2025

The Weight of a Gift: Phil and Penny Knight’s $2 Billion to Cancer Research—and What It Reveals About Power in Higher Ed and Medicine

On August 14, 2025, Nike co-founder Phil Knight and his wife Penny Knight pledged an extraordinary $2 billion to the Knight Cancer Institute at Oregon Health & Science University (OHSU)—the largest single gift ever to a U.S. university-affiliated health center, surpassing Michael Bloomberg’s $1.8 billion to Johns Hopkins University.

Transformational Impact—or Power Play?

This gift aims to double the Institute’s capacity, expand research and treatment infrastructure, and bolster holistic patient services—including psychological, financial, nutritional, and survivorship support. A new governance structure—the Knight Cancer Group—will operate autonomously within OHSU, led by Dr. Brian Druker, renowned for his work on Gleevec.

At a time when public funding for scientific research is shrinking, the Knights emphasize their vision for a “patient-centered cancer center of global impact.” The gift promises to accelerate innovation and potentially save thousands of lives.


The Double-Edged Sword of Mega-Philanthropy

Wealth Dictates Direction

With more than $4 billion donated across Oregon universities and institutions—including the Knight Cancer Challenge and the Phil and Penny Knight Campus for Accelerating Scientific Impact—the Knights wield significant influence over institutional priorities, culture, and governance.

Inequality and Access

A Higher Education Inquirer exposé, "The Dark Legacy of Elite University Medical Centers" (March 2025), warns that elite medical institutions often deliver world-class care while perpetuating inequities—through historical exploitation, systemic bias, and exclusion of marginalized communities. Without safeguards, even philanthropic efforts can reinforce structural disparities.

Public Dependency and Private Control

As public funding erodes, institutions increasingly rely on mega-donors. The creation of the Knight Cancer Group with autonomous authority inside OHSU is a stark example of donor-driven governance in what is nominally a public institution.


Critical Context: Nike’s Controversies

While Phil Knight’s philanthropic legacy is significant, Nike—the company he co-founded—has a long history of controversies that color public perception of his influence:

  • Labor Practices: For decades, Nike has faced accusations of using overseas sweatshops with poor working conditions, low pay, and child labor. More recently, it was linked to pandemic-era wage theft at a Thai supplier factory.

  • Gender Discrimination: Nike settled a major sexual discrimination lawsuit in 2025 after years of allegations from former employees. Unsealed court records revealed nearly two dozen harassment claims against senior staff.

  • Athlete Treatment: The Nike Oregon Project faced abuse allegations from runners like Mary Cain, who accused coaches of dangerous training practices and body shaming.

  • Product and Marketing Controversies: The company drew backlash for designing revealing Olympic women’s uniforms and was accused by an indie filmmaker of copying her work for a Nike ad.

  • Legal Challenges: Nike faces a class-action lawsuit over selling NFTs alleged to be unregistered securities.

  • Performance-Enhancing Technology: Its Vaporfly running shoes sparked debates about “mechanical doping” in competitive athletics.

These issues underscore the complex interplay between Knight’s philanthropic image and the practices of the corporation tied to his wealth.


Navigating Philanthropy Through a Nuanced Lens

Phil Knight’s $2 billion gift offers enormous potential for advancing cancer research and treatment. Yet it also highlights the risks of relying on private wealth to shape public institutions. Mega-donations can spur breakthroughs—but they can also centralize influence, limit democratic oversight, and entrench inequalities.

If the future of higher education and medicine increasingly depends on billionaire philanthropy, society must ensure that governance, accountability, and equity remain at the forefront—so the benefits reach all, not just the privileged few.


Sources

  • Associated Press, Nike co-founder Phil Knight and wife pledge record $2B to Oregon cancer center (Aug. 14, 2025)

  • Wall Street Journal, Phil Knight Gives $2 Billion to Oregon Health & Science University (Aug. 14, 2025)

  • Town & Country, Phil Knight’s $2 Billion Cancer Center Gift (Aug. 14, 2025)

  • Becker’s Hospital Review, OHSU Knight Cancer Institute receives $2B gift (Aug. 14, 2025)

  • Higher Education Inquirer, The Dark Legacy of Elite University Medical Centers (Mar. 2025)

  • Oregon Capital Insider, Phil Knight’s Big Ticket Donations Surpass $2 Billion (Apr. 25, 2023)

  • Cupertino Times, Labor Practices Controversy: How Nike Faced Its Sweatshop Scandal (Nov. 23, 2024)

  • Times of Innovation, Nike Told to Compensate Workers in High-Profile Labour Controversy (Dec. 2024)

  • Forbes, Nike To Settle Sexual Discrimination Lawsuit Hanging Over Its Head Since 2018 (Apr. 1, 2025)

  • Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press, Unsealed Court Records Reveal New Details About Nike Sex Discrimination Case (2025)

  • Glamour, Nike Gets Backlash from Athletes Over ‘Sexist’ Track and Field Uniforms (Apr. 17, 2024)

  • Times of India, Indie Filmmaker Tells Nike Their Ad… Shockingly Similar to Her Work (May 2025)

  • Wikipedia, Nike Vaporfly and Tokyo 2020 Olympics Controversy (2025)

  • Wikipedia, Nike Oregon Project (2025)

  • The Verge, Nike Faces Class Action Over RTFKT NFT Project (2025)

Saturday, August 9, 2025

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.


Sources:

Wednesday, July 30, 2025

Smoke, Mirrors, and the HybriU Hustle: Ambow's Global Learning Pitch Raises Red Flags

On July 25, 2025, Ambow Education released a press statement heralding the launch of its HybriU Global Learning Network—a grand vision to connect U.S. universities with students around the world through AI-driven hybrid classrooms, immersive tech, and overseas support centers in places like Singapore and China. The announcement paints Ambow as a transformative edtech player capable of bypassing borders, red tape, and traditional learning models.

But for all its futuristic promises, the press release is long on hype and short on verifiable substance.

Ambow’s materials list no actual U.S. university partnerships. There are no student outcomes, no published evaluations, and no pricing models. Instead, the rollout appears to rest on vague invitations for licensing or revenue-sharing arrangements, alongside a photo shoot of stock images and boilerplate claims about AI, 3D environments, and "borderless" learning.

HEI's previous stories on Ambow Education are here

A Track Record of Trouble

Ambow’s track record hardly inspires confidence. Its U.S. acquisition, Bay State College, was fined by the Massachusetts Attorney General in 2020 for deceptive marketing and lost accreditation before closing in 2023. Another acquisition, NewSchool of Architecture & Design in San Diego, is under federal Heightened Cash Monitoring, has fewer than 300 students, and is embroiled in lawsuits over unpaid wages and bills.

Despite this, Ambow continues to market itself as a next-gen education leader while reporting zero dollars in research and development spending for three years running. Its executive leadership is unusually consolidated—CEO Jin Huang also serves as CFO and Board Chair—and its auditor is a little-known Chinese firm, casting doubt on financial transparency.

Universities Should Proceed with Caution

Ambow claims it can solve the international enrollment crisis for U.S. schools by providing overseas “learning centers” where students can engage in U.S. courses without needing a visa. It’s a seductive pitch in the wake of global travel restrictions, demographic cliffs, and state budget cuts. But unless Ambow can produce proof of academic rigor, data security, and actual delivery, U.S. institutions risk far more than bad PR.

So far, no university named in the company’s outreach has confirmed participation—including those Ambow has quietly courted, such as Colorado State University.

A Deafening Silence from Regulators

Following this latest press release, The Higher Education Inquirer sent detailed concerns and background information to:

  • The Securities and Exchange Commission

  • The U.S. Department of Education

  • The U.S. House Select Committee on the Chinese Communist Party

  • Multiple national and regional media outlets

None have responded.

Given the financial, academic, and geopolitical risks involved, this silence is as disturbing as the press release itself. If federal agencies, lawmakers, and the mainstream press won’t investigate edtech ventures like Ambow, who will hold them accountable?

The Pitch Doesn’t Match the Product

In an age where marketing often outpaces regulation and due diligence, Ambow’s HybriU project looks less like innovation and more like vaporware. It’s a business strategy built on perception, not performance.

Until Ambow can show real partnerships, transparent governance, and validated outcomes, universities would be wise to avoid becoming the next Bay State College.

Sources

Ambow Education press release via Yahoo Finance:
https://finance.yahoo.com/news/ambow-launches-hybriu-global-learning-100000841.html

Massachusetts Attorney General fine against Bay State College (2020):
https://www.mass.gov/news/ag-healey-secures-relief-for-students-of-bay-state-college

Accreditation loss and closure of Bay State College:
https://www.bostonherald.com/2023/06/01/bay-state-college-officially-closes-after-months-of-controversy/

Heightened Cash Monitoring database, U.S. Department of Education:
https://studentaid.gov/data-center/school/hcm

Ambow Education SEC filings:
https://www.sec.gov/edgar/browse/?CIK=1489947

NewSchool of Architecture lawsuits (public docket research required for updates)

Saturday, July 19, 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

Tuesday, July 15, 2025

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.  


 

Saturday, July 12, 2025

Corinthian Colleges: A For-Profit Empire, Lifelong Debt, and No Justice for the Victims

In the pantheon of higher education scandals, few match the scale and damage caused by Corinthian Colleges Inc. (CCI). Once hailed by Wall Street as a model for the future of "career education," Corinthian collapsed in 2015 amid federal investigations, lawsuits, and public outrage. The company left behind a trail of financial ruin: more than half a million former students burdened with life-altering debt and degrees of little or no value.

And yet—no one went to jail.
 
A Machine Built on Deception

Founded in 1995, Corinthian Colleges grew rapidly by acquiring small vocational schools and rebranding them under the names Everest, Heald, and WyoTech. Backed by investors and pumped with federal financial aid dollars, the company aggressively marketed to low-income individuals, single mothers, veterans, and people of color—those often excluded from traditional higher education.

Its business model depended not on education outcomes, but on enrollment numbers and federal subsidies. Behind its TV commercials and high-pressure call centers, Corinthian was fabricating job placement rates, enrolling unqualified students, and saddling them with tens of thousands in debt for programs that were often substandard or unaccredited.

At its peak, Corinthian enrolled more than 100,000 students and took in over $1.4 billion annually in federal aid.
 
The Collapse and the Fallout

In 2014, under pressure from federal and state regulators—particularly California Attorney General Kamala Harris—the U.S. Department of Education began tightening scrutiny. When CCI failed to provide accurate job placement data, the government cut off access to Title IV funds. Corinthian tried to sell off its campuses piecemeal before declaring bankruptcy in 2015.

The closure stranded tens of thousands of students mid-degree and left hundreds of thousands with massive debt for worthless credentials.
Lifelong Damage

Many Corinthian students never recovered. Some lost years of work and study. Many saw their credit scores destroyed. Others defaulted and faced wage garnishment, loss of tax refunds, and psychological trauma.

Although the Biden administration in 2022 announced $5.8 billion in loan cancellation for more than 560,000 former Corinthian students—the largest discharge of federal student loans in U.S. history—many students were excluded. Others had taken out private loans or never received proper notification. Some died before receiving relief. Others continue to pay interest on fraudulent debts.
 
The Executives Who Walked Away

While students and their families were left in financial ruin, Corinthian’s executives escaped virtually untouched.

Jack D. Massimino, Corinthian’s longtime CEO and chairman, collected millions in compensation over the years—reportedly more than $3 million in a single year (2010). Despite leading the company through its most fraudulent period, Massimino was never criminally charged. He quietly disappeared from public view after the company’s collapse.

Patrick J. Carey, former Chief Operating Officer and later CEO after Massimino stepped down, also avoided prosecution. Carey was involved in the company’s operations during the period when job placement numbers were allegedly falsified.

William D. White, former Chief Financial Officer, signed off on SEC filings during years of misleading statements to investors and regulators, yet he too faced no criminal charges.

A handful of lawsuits and civil enforcement actions targeted the company, but not its top brass. The Obama-era Department of Education fined Corinthian $30 million for misrepresentations at its Heald campuses in California—but again, no individuals were held accountable.

The Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) filed a civil suit in 2016 against Massimino and two other executives—Robert Owen (former CEO of Everest) and David Moore (former Vice President of Career Services)—but the penalties were civil, not criminal. The matter was quietly resolved years later, with no admission of guilt and limited financial penalties.
 
A Legal and Regulatory Failure

The failure to prosecute Corinthian’s leadership reveals the broader dysfunction of federal oversight. The Department of Education continued to funnel billions to Corinthian even after whistleblowers and state attorneys general raised serious concerns. Accreditors rubber-stamped programs with low graduation and job placement rates. Congress held hearings but passed little reform.

And when the reckoning came, it was the students—not the executives or shareholders—who paid the price.
 
A Cautionary Tale Still Unfolding

The Corinthian Colleges scandal is not simply a story of corporate greed. It is a story of systemic complicity—of a regulatory system that rewards enrollment over outcomes, that protects corporate actors while ignoring the human cost.

Today, many former Corinthian students remain in financial limbo, excluded from relief due to paperwork errors, technicalities, or bureaucratic delays. Some have moved on, but with scars—financial, emotional, and psychological—that may never fully heal.

Meanwhile, the men who engineered this billion-dollar fraud have retired or moved on to new ventures. Their profits are intact. Their reputations barely scratched.

Borrower Defense to Repayment: A Broken Lifeline

In theory, Borrower Defense to Repayment (BDR) was supposed to be the lifeline for students defrauded by predatory institutions like Corinthian Colleges. Enshrined in federal law since the 1990s and expanded during the Obama administration, BDR allows borrowers to seek federal student loan cancellation if their school misled them or violated certain state laws. In practice, however, this “safety net” has been riddled with delay, denial, and political sabotage.

During the Trump administration, then-Education Secretary Betsy DeVos all but dismantled BDR, slow-walking or denying tens of thousands of claims and rewriting the rules to make relief nearly impossible to obtain. Her Department of Education sat on a mountain of applications, many of them from Corinthian students, and forced some defrauded borrowers to repay loans they never should have owed.

Legal battles ensued. A class action suit brought by student borrowers (Sweet v. Cardona) eventually compelled the Department of Education to process tens of thousands of long-delayed claims. But the damage from years of neglect and politicization left lasting scars.

The Biden administration, to its credit, sought to restore the original intent of Borrower Defense. In 2022, it wiped out $5.8 billion in federal loans for former Corinthian students—an unprecedented act of relief. And yet, it was not complete justice.

Thousands of borrowers still have pending BDR applications. Some were denied under DeVos-era policies and must reapply. Others have struggled to access relief due to confusing eligibility requirements or missing documentation. And those with private loans—outside the reach of BDR entirely—remain stuck with illegitimate debt and few legal options.

More troubling, the system remains vulnerable to future political manipulation. Without statutory protections, BDR can be gutted again by a future administration, leaving borrowers once more at the mercy of ideology and inertia.

Corinthian’s legacy, then, lives on—not just in the ruined finances of its former students but in the unsteady scaffolding of a student loan forgiveness system still prone to failure. If Borrower Defense to Repayment is to mean anything, it must become more than a postscript to scandals like Corinthian. It must become a durable right—shielded from politics, enforced with urgency, and backed by a real commitment to justice.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to investigate how many were excluded, why relief was delayed, and what deeper reforms are needed—not just to help the Corinthian generation, but to prevent the next generation from falling into the same trap.

Sources:

U.S. Department of Education press releases (2015–2024)
SEC v. Massimino, Owen, Moore (2016)
California v. Corinthian Colleges, Inc. (AG Kamala Harris)
The Atlantic, “The Lie That Got Half a Million People Into Debt”
The Chronicle of Higher Education archives
Debt Collective reports and legal filings
U.S. Senate HELP Committee (Harkin Report, 2012)
Inside Higher Ed, “Corinthian Execs Walk Away”
Sweet v. Cardona case documents and related rulings
Borrower Defense regulations: 34 CFR § 685.206 and subsequent amendments

Let us know if you have a Corinthian story to share. Justice demands it be told.

Friday, July 11, 2025

As the Wealth Gap Widens, Executive Security Spending Surges

As economic inequality intensifies in the United States, corporate leaders are allocating more resources to personal security. CEOs, board members, and high-ranking executives in multiple sectors—including healthcare, tech, logistics, finance, and higher education—are investing in expanded protective measures in response to growing public anger and incidents like the 2024 assassination of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson by Luigi Mangione.

In 2023, Meta Platforms spent $14 million on CEO Mark Zuckerberg’s personal security. Alphabet spent $5.9 million, Amazon reported $1.6 million, and JPMorgan Chase allocated $1.2 million for CEO protection, according to public filings with the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC). These expenditures have risen steadily in recent years. The Institute for Policy Studies reports an 11 percent increase in executive security costs among the top 500 U.S. firms between 2021 and 2023.

The killing of Thompson in December 2024 catalyzed a wave of security upgrades. According to Business Insider, 40 UnitedHealthcare executives hired bodyguards, relocated, or altered travel routines. UnitedHealth later disclosed $1.7 million in new executive security costs, according to STAT News. Analysts and security firms have since labeled the trend the “Luigi effect.”

These developments are not confined to healthcare. Energy, retail, agriculture, and higher education executives are also responding to rising threats—many rooted in public dissatisfaction over price inflation, labor exploitation, and environmental degradation. In higher education, university presidents have increased security in response to student debt protests and adjunct faculty organizing. In logistics, following union drives and layoffs at UPS and Amazon, senior officials enhanced security at warehouses and corporate campuses.

These actions are occurring in a regulatory environment that has shifted in favor of corporate consolidation. The Federal Trade Commission (FTC), under financial and political pressure, has seen a reduction in staffing and enforcement capacity. According to the FTC’s FY2024 budget report, the agency operated with fewer than 1,100 full-time employees—a 20 percent decline from a decade earlier. Congressional budget cuts and increased legal challenges from corporations have further limited the FTC’s ability to investigate and block mergers, enforce antitrust laws, or monitor deceptive corporate practices.

This decline in federal oversight has emboldened monopolistic behavior across industries. It has also allowed firms to suppress labor rights, raise prices, and consolidate control—actions that contribute directly to the growing frustration among workers and consumers. With weakened regulatory agencies and stagnant wages, the perception of impunity among corporate elites has only sharpened public resentment.

The Higher Education Inquirer affirms its commitment to nonviolence. Acts like those carried out by Luigi Mangione are not acceptable responses to injustice. But his case has become a symbolic reference point, signaling how far some individuals may go when democratic tools of accountability are weakened. Escalating security budgets are not just a reaction to individual threats—they are a measurable indicator of social distrust and institutional breakdown.

The solution is not fortification, but reform. Corporate leaders have an opportunity to respond by narrowing executive compensation gaps, supporting collective bargaining, addressing climate and public health impacts, and reducing their influence over regulatory systems. The FTC’s decline is a structural signal, just like the rise in CEO security costs. Both reveal a system drifting further from democratic accountability.

The path forward must be shaped by transparency, public policy, and peaceful resistance. If not, the costs—financial, social, and moral—will continue to rise.

Sources

  • U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) Proxy Filings: Meta (2023), Amazon (2023), Alphabet (2023), JPMorgan Chase (2023)

  • Business Insider. “UnitedHealthcare Execs Hired Bodyguards After CEO’s Killing.” June 2025

  • STAT News. “UnitedHealth Discloses $1.7 Million in Security Costs Post-Murder.” April 2025

  • Institute for Policy Studies. Executive Excess 2023

  • Federal Trade Commission. “Fiscal Year 2024 Congressional Budget Justification.” https://www.ftc.gov

  • Economic Policy Institute. “CEO Pay Has Grown 1,209% Since 1978.” 2023

  • Pew Research Center. “Public Trust in Institutions, 2023”

  • Chronicle of Higher Education. “Presidents Increase Security Amid Campus Protests.” 2024

  • New York Post. “Executives Rush to Boost Security in Wake of ‘Luigi Effect’.” May 2025

Wednesday, July 9, 2025

The Real Downgrade: America’s Bond Rating Is Falling—But Our Quality of Life Is Falling Faster

In July 2025, the United States was dealt another blow to its financial credibility: a downgrade of its sovereign bond rating by Fitch Ratings, with warnings from Moody’s and S&P that further cuts may be imminent. The downgrade reflects ballooning federal deficits, unsustainable debt servicing costs, and chronic political dysfunction. Meanwhile, the Congressional Budget Office has lowered GDP projections for the remainder of the decade, citing long-term productivity declines, labor instability, and extreme climate disruption.

Yet behind these headline-grabbing financial developments lies a much more dangerous, and far more insidious, crisis: the downgrade of American quality of life. This is not measured in basis points or stock indices, but in rising mortality rates, falling life expectancy, crumbling infrastructure, unaffordable housing, and the widespread erosion of trust in national institutions. No credit agency can fully quantify it, but Americans are living through it every day.

Add to this grim picture the looming risk of a crypto-fueled financial collapse—an entirely preventable disaster that Congress now seems intent on accelerating.

The U.S. Congress is on the brink of passing a sweeping cryptocurrency bill that, under the banner of “fostering innovation,” may be setting the stage for the next major financial crisis. While crypto lobbyists and venture capitalists celebrate the bill as long-overdue regulatory clarity, critics argue it guts consumer protections, legalizes financial opacity, and drastically weakens federal oversight.

The bill, pushed forward by a bipartisan coalition flush with campaign donations from the crypto industry, transfers much of the regulatory authority over digital assets from the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) to the more industry-friendly Commodity Futures Trading Commission (CFTC). In doing so, it reclassifies most cryptocurrencies as commodities, effectively shielding them from the stricter standards that govern securities and financial disclosures.

Loopholes in the bill allow for weakened Know-Your-Customer (KYC) and Anti-Money Laundering (AML) requirements. It legalizes many decentralized finance (DeFi) platforms that operate without any institutional accountability. Oversight of stablecoins—whose volatility helped crash markets in 2022—is minimal. The bill even offers tax exemptions for certain crypto gains, encouraging high-risk speculation under the guise of "financial inclusion."

This legislation arrives not in a vacuum but after multiple crypto meltdowns that wiped out more than $2 trillion in market value between 2021 and 2022. Companies like FTX, Celsius, and Voyager Digital collapsed in spectacular fashion, leaving millions of retail investors with empty wallets while insiders escaped with fortunes. Despite this history, Congress appears ready to invite a repeat—only on a much larger, more systemically dangerous scale.

A full-blown crypto crash under this new legal framework could trigger a financial chain reaction through pension funds, university endowments, small banks, and public finance institutions already dabbling in digital assets. Lacking meaningful regulatory authority, the federal government would be left unable to respond effectively—much like in the early days of the 2008 mortgage crisis.

The real casualties of this will not be Silicon Valley billionaires or hedge fund managers. It will be working Americans, already burdened by stagnant wages, crushing student loan debt, and unaffordable housing. Desperate for financial relief or upward mobility, many are being drawn into crypto speculation. When the crash comes, they’ll be the ones holding the bag—again.

Young people, especially recent college graduates, are particularly vulnerable. Burdened with degrees that offer little job security, forced into gig work or unpaid internships, and priced out of housing and healthcare, they now face a new threat: the destruction of their meager savings and long-term stability in yet another engineered financial disaster. As the Higher Education Inquirer has reported, this educated underclass is not a fluke of the labor market—it is a design of an extractive economic system that prioritizes capital over community, and deregulation over accountability.

This crypto bill is just the latest chapter in a broader crisis of governance. America is no longer investing in the basics that make life livable—healthcare, housing, education, climate infrastructure—but it continues to write blank checks for speculative markets and corporate interests. The national obsession with GDP and innovation has created an economy that generates record profits but widespread misery. We’ve become a nation of downward mobility, hidden under the veneer of “growth.”

As public services are hollowed out, life expectancy is falling. Maternal and infant mortality are rising. Suicide and drug overdoses have become common causes of death. Public schools and universities are under attack from all sides—defunded, corporatized, and politicized. Millions go without healthcare, adequate food, or secure housing. And amid it all, Congress is preparing to deregulate one of the most volatile sectors of the global economy.

The U.S. bond rating matters—but it does not capture the full truth of our national decline. GDP growth means little when it’s accompanied by hunger, burnout, sickness, and despair. The real downgrade isn’t in our financial paper—it’s in our national soul.

If this crypto bill passes, we may look back on it as the moment when lawmakers abandoned even the pretense of protecting the public in favor of appeasing tech lobbyists and private equity donors. A financial crash is not just likely—it is all but inevitable. And when it happens, it will further degrade the quality of life for a population already stretched to the breaking point.

The Higher Education Inquirer calls on journalists, educators, student activists, and policymakers to treat this crisis with the seriousness it demands. Our future should not be mortgaged to crypto speculators and congressional opportunists.

The credit downgrade is a symptom. The GDP slump is a warning. But the real emergency is human: a population losing faith in its institutions, its economy, and its future.

And unless we change course, that’s a downgrade no rating agency can reverse.

Sources:

Fitch Ratings Downgrade Report, July 2025
Congressional Budget Office Economic Outlook, 2025–2030
Redfin Housing Market Insights, Q2 2025
CDC Life Expectancy and Mortality Data, 2024
Brookings Institution: “Crypto and Systemic Risk” (2024)
Senate Financial Services Committee Testimony, May 2025
National Bureau of Economic Research: “GDP vs. Wellbeing” (2023)

Friday, June 20, 2025

A Brief History of U.S. Financial Downturns and Collapses: Speculation, Deregulation, Environmental Stress, and the Crises to Come

Since the Treaty of Paris in 1783, the United States has experienced repeated financial collapses—economic convulsions shaped by cycles of speculation, deregulation, and systemic inequality. While official narratives often frame these crises as isolated, unexpected events, the truth is more systemic. Time and again, economic downturns have been driven by elite greed, weakened regulatory institutions, and the exploitation of both people and the planet. Today, amid climate chaos, digital finance, and eroding public trust, the United States stands on the brink of another, potentially greater, financial reckoning.

The country’s first financial panic, in 1792, was triggered by speculative schemes in government securities. Treasury Secretary Alexander Hamilton’s efforts to stabilize the new economy through the Bank of the United States led to rampant speculation on public debt. A brief crisis followed when overextended investors panicked. A few years later, the Panic of 1797 resulted from overleveraged land investments and a tightening of British credit. These early shocks revealed a fundamental pattern: deregulated markets rewarded insiders and punished everyone else.

Throughout the 19th century, financial panics became a fixture of American capitalism. The Panic of 1819, the nation’s first true depression, followed a credit boom tied to western land speculation and aggressive lending by the Second Bank of the United States. As cotton prices collapsed and farmers defaulted on loans, banks failed, and mass unemployment followed. The Panic of 1837, catalyzed by President Andrew Jackson’s dismantling of the national bank and his hard-money policies, triggered a deep depression that lasted through most of the 1840s. The financial collapse of 1857, in turn, stemmed from global trade imbalances, railroad speculation, and the failure of major financial institutions like the Ohio Life Insurance and Trust Company.

Even at this early stage, economic expansion was fueled by environmental exploitation. Railroads cut through forests and Indigenous territories. Monoculture farming destroyed topsoil. Western land, viewed as limitless, was extracted for immediate profit, with no regard for sustainability or stewardship.

The late 19th century’s Gilded Age brought a series of devastating crashes that reflected the unchecked power of monopolists and financiers. The Panic of 1873, known as the beginning of the Long Depression, began with the collapse of Jay Cooke & Company, a bank overinvested in railroads. The depression persisted for years and was marked by widespread unemployment, strikes, and a backlash against corporate excess. In 1893, another railroad bubble burst, leading to bank runs, industrial failures, and one of the worst economic downturns of the century. At every turn, environmental damage—from deforestation to mining disasters—intensified.

The 20th century began with new waves of speculation and consolidation, culminating in the infamous crash of 1929 and the Great Depression. In the 1920s, the U.S. economy boomed on the back of industrial expansion, easy credit, and a largely unregulated stock market. Wall Street profits masked deep inequality and rural poverty. When the bubble burst in October 1929, the collapse wiped out millions of investors and plunged the country into a decade-long depression. Environmental catastrophe followed in the form of the Dust Bowl, a man-made disaster brought about by overfarming and soil mismanagement across the Great Plains. Families lost both their farms and their future, creating a mass migration of the economically displaced.

In response, the Roosevelt administration implemented the New Deal, which included financial reforms like the Glass-Steagall Act, the Securities and Exchange Commission, and public investment in infrastructure. But by the late 20th century, many of these safeguards were systematically dismantled. The wave of deregulation began in earnest during the Reagan era. The Savings and Loan Crisis of the 1980s, a direct result of financial deregulation and speculative lending, cost American taxpayers more than $160 billion. At the same time, environmental protections were weakened, leading to an explosion of toxic sites and a spike in chronic health problems, especially in low-income communities.

In the 1990s and early 2000s, the rise of Silicon Valley and the dot-com bubble marked a new chapter in speculative capitalism. Investors poured money into tech startups with little revenue or product. The bubble burst in 2000, wiping out trillions in paper wealth and exposing the fragility of digital economies built on hype rather than value. This was followed by the more devastating crash of 2008, the result of subprime mortgage fraud, unregulated derivatives, and the repeal of Glass-Steagall in 1999. Wall Street firms packaged risky home loans into complex securities and sold them across the globe. When the housing market collapsed, so did the global financial system.

The 2008 crash led to the Great Recession, which resulted in millions of foreclosures, lost jobs, and deep cuts to public services. African American and Latinx communities, already targeted by predatory lenders, were especially hard hit. At the same time, sprawling housing developments—many built in environmentally fragile areas—were abandoned or devalued, further highlighting the links between financial speculation and ecological risk.

More recently, the COVID-19 pandemic triggered a sharp recession in 2020. Lockdowns and mass illness disrupted labor markets, supply chains, and public institutions. The federal government responded with massive fiscal and monetary stimulus, which lifted financial markets even as millions lost jobs or left the workforce. Low interest rates and stimulus checks fueled speculative booms in housing, stocks, and digital assets like cryptocurrency.

Cryptocurrency, originally touted as a decentralized alternative to Wall Street, became a magnet for speculative excess. Bitcoin and Ethereum surged to record highs, only to crash repeatedly. The collapse of major crypto exchanges like FTX in 2022 revealed rampant fraud, regulatory gaps, and a new frontier of financial exploitation. In addition to its financial instability, cryptocurrency mining has significant environmental costs, consuming more electricity than many small nations and accelerating carbon emissions in areas powered by fossil fuels.

The current moment is defined by overlapping crises: speculative bubbles in tech and crypto, a fragile labor market, worsening inequality, and a rapidly destabilizing climate. Insurance companies are retreating from high-risk areas due to wildfires, floods, and hurricanes. Crop failures and water shortages threaten food security. Global supply chains are vulnerable to both pandemics and extreme weather. At the same time, deregulatory fervor continues, with efforts to weaken environmental laws, consumer protections, and financial oversight.

If history is any guide, these trends point toward the likelihood of a greater collapse—one not confined to Wall Street but cascading through housing, education, healthcare, and global systems. Future downturns may not be triggered by a single event like a stock crash or pandemic but by an interconnected series of shocks: climate disaster, resource wars, digital speculation, and institutional failure.

Higher education will not be spared. Universities increasingly rely on endowments tied to volatile markets, student debt, and partnerships with speculative industries. The growth of for-profit colleges, online "robocolleges," and gig-economy credentialism has created a hollow system that produces degrees but not economic security. Many young Americans—especially those from working-class and marginalized communities—now face a lifetime of debt and precarious employment. They are the product of a financialized education system that promised upward mobility and delivered downward pressure.

In the end, financial collapses in the U.S. have never been merely economic—they have been moral and political failures as well. They reflect a system that too often prioritizes speculation over stability, deregulation over justice, and private gain over public good. Some of the wealthiest figures in this system—like Peter Thiel and other techno-libertarian futurists—actively invest in escape plans: buying bunkers in New Zealand, funding longevity startups, or betting on crypto anarchy, all while anticipating societal collapse. But most Americans don’t have the luxury of opting out. What we need instead is a commitment to rebuilding systems grounded in equity, sustainability, and democratic accountability. While the risks ahead are real, so are the opportunities—especially if the people most affected by past collapses organize, speak out, and help shape a more resilient and just future.

For more critical perspectives on inequality, education, and economic justice, follow the Higher Education Inquirer.

Wednesday, June 11, 2025

What do the University of Phoenix and Risepoint have in common? The answer is a compelling story of greed and politics.

In the increasingly commodified world of higher education, the University of Phoenix and Risepoint (formerly Academic Partnerships) represent parallel tales of how private equity, political influence, and deceptive practices have shaped the online college landscape. While their paths have diverged in branding and institutional affiliation, the underlying motives and outcomes share disturbing similarities.


The University of Phoenix: A Legacy of Legal and Ethical Trouble

The University of Phoenix (UOP) has been a central player in the for-profit college boom, particularly during and after the 2000s. Under the ownership of Apollo Education Group, and later the Vistria Group, UOP has faced a relentless stream of lawsuits, regulatory scrutiny, and public outrage.

In 2019, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) reached a $191 million settlement with UOP over allegations of deceptive advertising. UOP falsely claimed partnerships with major corporations like Microsoft, AT&T, and Twitter to entice students. The result was $50 million in restitution and $141 million in student debt relief.

But the legal troubles didn’t stop there. In 2022 and 2023, the U.S. Department of Education included UOP in a broader class action that granted $37 million in borrower defense discharges. These claims stemmed from deceptive marketing and predatory recruitment practices.

Meanwhile, in 2024, the California Attorney General settled with UOP for $4.5 million over allegations of illegally targeting military service members between 2012 and 2015. The university’s controversial relationship with the military community also led to a temporary VA suspension of GI Bill enrollments in 2020.

The legal history includes False Claims Act suits brought by whistleblowers, including former employees alleging falsified records, incentive-based recruiter pay, and exaggerated graduation and job placement statistics. In 2019, Apollo Education settled a securities fraud lawsuit for $7.4 million.

More recently, UOP has been embroiled in political controversy in Idaho. In 2023 and 2024, the Idaho Attorney General challenged the state's attempt to acquire UOP, citing Open Meetings Act violations and lack of transparency. Though a federal judge initially dismissed the suit, Idaho’s Supreme Court allowed an appeal to proceed.

Through all of this, Vistria Group—UOP’s private equity owner since 2017—has reaped massive profits. Vistria was co-founded by Marty Nesbitt, a close confidant of Barack Obama, underscoring the bipartisan political protection that shields for-profit education from lasting accountability.


Risepoint and the Online Program Management Model

Risepoint, formerly Academic Partnerships (AP), tells a similarly troubling story, albeit from the Online Program Manager (OPM) side of the education-industrial complex. Founded in 2007 by Randy Best, a well-connected Republican donor with ties to Jeb Bush, AP helped universities build online degree programs in exchange for a significant cut of tuition—sometimes up to 50%.

This tuition-share model, though legal, has raised ethical red flags. Critics argue it diverts millions in public education dollars into private hands, inflates student debt, and incentivizes aggressive, misleading recruitment. The most infamous case was the University of Texas-Arlington, which paid AP more than $178 million over five years. President Vistasp Karbhari resigned in 2020 after it was revealed he had taken international trips funded by AP.

Risepoint was acquired by Vistria Group in 2019, placing it in the same portfolio as the University of Phoenix and other education businesses. The firm’s growing influence in higher education—fueled by Democratic-aligned private equity—reflects a deeper entanglement of politics, policy, and profiteering.

In 2024, Minnesota became the first state to ban new tuition-share agreements with OPMs like Risepoint. This legislative action followed backlash from a controversial deal between Risepoint and St. Cloud State University, where critics accused the firm of extracting excessive revenue while offering questionable value.

Further pressure came from the federal level. In 2024, Senators Elizabeth Warren, Sherrod Brown, and Tina Smith issued letters to major OPMs demanding transparency about recruitment tactics and tuition-share models. The Department of Education followed in January 2025 with new guidance restricting misleading marketing by OPMs, including impersonation of university staff.

Despite this, Risepoint continued expanding. In late 2023, the company purchased Wiley’s online program business for $150 million, signaling consolidation in a turbulent industry. Yet a 2024 report showed 147 OPM-university contracts had been terminated in 2023, and new contracts fell by over 50%.


What Ties Them Together: Vistria Group

Vistria Group sits at the center of both sagas. The Chicago-based private equity firm has made education—especially online and for-profit education—a core pillar of its investment strategy. With connections to both Democratic and Republican power brokers, Vistria has deftly navigated the regulatory landscape while profiting from public education dollars.

Its ownership of the University of Phoenix and Risepoint demonstrates a clear strategy: acquire distressed or controversial education companies, clean up their public image, and extract revenue while avoiding deep reforms. Through Vistria, private equity gains access to billions in federal student aid with minimal oversight and a bipartisan shield.

The result is a higher education ecosystem where political influence, corporate profit, and public exploitation collide. And whether through online degrees from the University of Phoenix or public-private partnerships with Risepoint, students are often the ones left bearing the cost.


As scrutiny intensifies and state and federal lawmakers demand reform, the futures of Risepoint and the University of Phoenix remain uncertain. But one thing is clear: their shared story reveals how higher education has become a battleground of greed, power, and politics.

Wednesday, May 21, 2025

How the New Cryptocurrency Bill Could Accelerate a US Financial Collapse

The United States Congress is on the brink of passing a sweeping cryptocurrency bill that, under the guise of fostering innovation, may be paving the way for the next financial crisis. While crypto lobbyists and venture capitalists tout the legislation as a long-overdue framework for digital assets, critics warn that the bill’s deregulatory nature undermines consumer protections, enables fraud, and weakens the federal government’s ability to prevent a systemic collapse.

The proposed legislation—championed by a bipartisan coalition of lawmakers with significant donations from the crypto industry—shifts regulatory authority from the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) to the more industry-friendly Commodity Futures Trading Commission (CFTC). This move effectively reclassifies most cryptocurrencies as commodities rather than securities, shielding them from stringent disclosure and investor protection requirements.

The Bill’s Key Provisions: A Gift to Speculators

Among the most controversial elements of the bill:

  • Loosening of Know-Your-Customer (KYC) and Anti-Money Laundering (AML) safeguards for certain crypto entities;

  • Legalization of certain decentralized finance (DeFi) platforms, many of which operate without clear accountability;

  • Minimal oversight of stablecoins, despite their systemic risks as shown in the 2022 TerraUSD collapse;

  • Tax exemptions for certain crypto gains, incentivizing speculative investment.

Supporters argue these measures will solidify America’s dominance in financial innovation. But the bill’s leniency raises echoes of past financial debacles—from the dot-com bubble to the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis—where unregulated markets spiraled out of control.

A House Built on Sand

Cryptocurrency markets have already proven themselves to be volatile, largely unbacked, and susceptible to manipulation. The 2022 crash wiped out over $2 trillion in market value and exposed the fragility of companies like FTX, Celsius, and Voyager Digital—each of which left everyday investors devastated while insiders cashed out early.

Now, by codifying a legal gray zone as a financial free-for-all, the US government may be inviting a larger catastrophe. With trillions of dollars potentially flowing into underregulated crypto assets, a major crash could trigger a chain reaction through the broader financial system, especially as more institutional players and retirement funds are drawn into the space under the new law.

An Economy at Risk

The consequences of a crypto-induced financial collapse could be profound:

  • Working families—already crushed by student debt, housing inflation, and stagnant wages—may be lured into speculative investments out of desperation, only to lose their savings in the next collapse.

  • University endowments and public pension systems—some of which have already dabbled in crypto—could suffer catastrophic losses, compounding the higher education affordability crisis.

  • State and federal regulators, stripped of the tools needed to intervene effectively, will be unable to respond to crises in real-time, much as they were in the early days of the 2008 crash.

Moreover, this deregulatory trend sets a dangerous precedent: one in which the government abdicates its responsibility to protect the public in favor of appeasing Silicon Valley and Wall Street interests.

The Educated Underclass Will Pay the Price

As financial elites speculate with impunity, the economic fallout will disproportionately affect young people, especially recent college graduates burdened with debt and lacking stable employment. Many of these individuals are already being pushed into gig work, underemployment, or unpaid labor under the guise of "internship experience." A crypto-fueled crash could devastate whatever remaining economic foothold they have.

As the Higher Education Inquirer has chronicled, the rise of the educated underclass is not merely a generational shift—it is a structural consequence of policies that prioritize capital over community, markets over morals, and deregulation over democratic control. This bill is just the latest example.

A Crisis of Governance

Far from being a step forward, the new cryptocurrency bill reflects a larger crisis in American governance. It prioritizes short-term gains and corporate lobbying over long-term stability and social equity. By turning over the keys of financial regulation to the very industries that have proven incapable of self-regulation, the US may be steering itself into another devastating collapse.

The Higher Education Inquirer urges lawmakers, journalists, educators, and citizens to scrutinize this legislation with the urgency it deserves. A failure to act could turn today’s crypto dreams into tomorrow’s financial nightmare—one that once again leaves the working class holding the bag.


For further investigative reporting on the intersection of finance, higher education, and social equity, follow the Higher Education Inquirer.

Tuesday, March 11, 2025

HEI Continuing Investigations Include SEC FOIA Requests

The Higher Education Inquirer has recently sent Freedom of Information (FOIA) requests to the US Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) regarding two edtech companies, 2U and Ambow Education.  In both cases, we have requested the number of SEC complaints lodged against these corporations.  

2U has dealt with a number of shareholder lawsuits, starting in 2019. In 2024, the online program manager for elite universities went through Chapter 11 bankruptcy and was delisted by the NASDAQ.  The FOIA is 25-01645. We are requesting a count of the number of complaints made against 2U since 2016.

Ambow Education has also had financial problems over the years and we have documented some of these problems since 2022.  One of its two US schools, Bay State College, was closed in 2023.  The FOIA is 25-01633. We are requesting a count of the number of complaints made against Ambow since 2010.



Monday, January 20, 2025

Ambow Education Continues to Fish in Murky Waters

In May 2022, The Higher Education Inquirer began investigating Ambow Education after we received credible tips about the company as a bad actor in US higher education, particularly with its failure to adequately maintain and operate Bay State College in Boston. The Massachusetts Attorney General had already stepped in and fined the school in 2020 for misleading students. 

As HEI dug deeper, we found that Ambow failed years before under questionable circumstances. And we worked with a number of news outlets and staffers in the offices of Senator Elizabeth Warren and Representative Ayanna Pressley to get justice for the students at Bay State College. 

Murky Waters

Since that 2022 story we continued to investigate Ambow Education, its CEO/CFO/Board Chair Jin Huang, and Ambow's opaque business practices. Not only were we concerned about the company's finances, we were wary of any undue influence the People's Republic of China (PRC) had on Ambow, which the company had previously acknowledged in SEC documents. 

A Chinese proverb says it's easier to fish in murky waters. And that's what it seemed like for us to investigate Ambow, a company that used the murky waters in American business as well as anyone. But not everything can remain hidden to US authorities, even if the company was based out of the Cayman Islands, with a corporate headquarters in Beijing. 

In November 2022, Ambow sold all of its assets in the People's Republic of China, and in August 2023 Bay State College closed abruptly. We reported some strange behaviors in the markets to the Securities and Exchange Commission, but they had nothing to tell us. Ambow moved its headquarters to a small rental space in Cupertino, where it still operates. 

HybriU

In 2024, Ambow began spinning its yarns about a new learning platform, HybriU, using Norm Algood of Synergis Education as its huckster. HybriU appeared at the Consumer Electronics Show in Las Vegas and at the ASU-GSV conference in San Diego and used their presence as signs of legitimacy. It later reported a $1.3 million contract with a small company out of Singapore. Doing a reverse image search, we found that some of the images on the HybriU website were stock photos.

There is no indication that HybriU's OOOK technology, first promoted in the PRC in 2021, is groundbreaking, although glowing press releases counter that. HybriU says that its technology is being used in classrooms, but no clients (schools or businesses)  have been mentioned.  If Ambow Education can prove the HybriU technology is promising and valuable to consumers, we will publicy acknowledge it.  

Continued PRC Interests 

Besides having an auditor from the People's Republic of China, Ambow has apparently shown an interest in working with Chinese interests in Morocco and Tunisia.

Ambow Education's Financial Health

In 2025, Ambow Education remains alive but with fewer assets and only the promise of doing something of value with those assets. Its remaining US college, the NewSchool of Architecture and Design in San Diego has seen its enrollment dip to 280 students. And there are at least three cases in San Diego Superior Court pending (for failure to pay rent and failing to pay the school's former President).  The US Department of Education has the school under Heightened Cash Monitoring (HCM2) for administrative issues. Despite these problems, NewSchool has been given a cleaner bill of health by its regional accreditor, WSCUC, changing the school's Warning status to a Notice of Concern.

A report by Argus Research, which Ambow commissioned, also described Ambow in a generally positive light, despite the fact that Ambow was only spending $100,000 per quarter on Research and Development. That report notes that Prouden, a small accounting firm based in the People's Republic of China is just seeing Ambow Education's books for the first time. In April 2025 we wonder if we'll get adequate information when Ambow reports its 2024 annual earnings, or whether we find just another layer of sludge.