EANGUS: Nonprofit Shill for University of Phoenix

The Enlisted Association of the National Guard of the United States (EANGUS), which claims to advocate for enlisted National Guard members, has long presented itself as a supporter of military families and career advancement. However, its ongoing partnership with for-profit institutions like the University of Phoenix raises serious questions about whose interests the organization truly serves.

On August 13, the University of Phoenix announced the winners of the 2025 EANGUS Future Phoenix Scholarship, which awards full tuition for bachelor’s or master’s programs to current enlisted National Guard servicemembers and their immediate family members. The winners—Nitasa Freund, Isabella Hunsicker, and John Wellington—were celebrated in press materials that emphasized the school’s commitment to veteran students.

University of Phoenix framed the scholarships as a way to “empower our members to turn their service-driven experience into academic achievement,” while EANGUS Executive Director John Gipe described the partnership as helping military members “step forward not just for the individual, but for the communities they continue to serve.”

But the reality behind these programs is far less altruistic. University of Phoenix, owned by the for-profit Apollo Global Management, has a long history of predatory recruitment practices targeting military and veteran populations. The school has faced multiple federal investigations and lawsuits over deceptive marketing, inflated job placement claims, and aggressive enrollment tactics that funnel servicemembers into costly, high-debt programs.

EANGUS’s role in promoting scholarships to the University of Phoenix illustrates how military associations can be co-opted by for-profit educational interests. By lending credibility and direct access to servicemembers, EANGUS effectively functions as a shill, steering military personnel and their families toward programs that often prioritize corporate profit over educational quality or genuine career outcomes.

Scholarship recipients’ stories, highlighted in University of Phoenix press materials, are framed as evidence of success. Nitasa Freund, a National Guard Staff Sergeant, is pursuing a master’s in criminal justice; John Wellington, a 101st Signal Battalion Company First Sergeant, is returning to higher education after decades of service; and Isabella Hunsicker is studying psychology. These narratives, while compelling, mask the broader systemic risks associated with enrolling in high-cost for-profit programs that may saddle veterans with unmanageable debt.

For an organization that claims to represent the interests of enlisted service members, EANGUS’s alignment with a for-profit education juggernaut raises ethical concerns. Military families seeking higher education deserve advocacy that prioritizes transparency, quality, and long-term outcomes—not promotion of institutions with a documented history of exploiting the very population they claim to serve.

As for-profit colleges continue to target veterans and military families, it is incumbent on military associations, watchdogs, and policymakers to scrutinize partnerships that appear charitable on the surface but may perpetuate financial harm behind the scenes. EANGUS’s ongoing collaboration with University of Phoenix is a stark reminder that even well-intentioned organizations can become complicit in corporate profiteering when oversight and accountability are lacking.

Sources:

• University of Phoenix Press Release, August 13, 2025

• EANGUS Official Website

• Apollo Global Management, University of Phoenix corporate information

• Government Accountability Office and Department of Education reports on for-profit colleges

The Serenity Prayer, Climate Collapse, and Genocide: A Deal with the Devil

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference."

The Serenity Prayer has comforted millions. In times of personal struggle, it can be a powerful call to surrender what lies beyond one’s control. But in moments of global crisis, when powerful institutions profit from destruction, the prayer can function less as a path to peace and more as a pact of passivity—a deal with the devil.

This danger becomes stark in the face of two intertwined realities: planetary climate collapse and the mass suffering of human populations through war and genocide. While glaciers melt and firestorms raze entire regions, and while families in Gaza are buried beneath rubble from precision airstrikes, too many well-meaning individuals offer only whispered prayers for acceptance. The language of “serenity” has become a spiritual sedative, numbing people to action in the face of unprecedented violence.

The horror in Gaza is not isolated. It is the latest chapter in a long history of calculated brutality. For more than nine months, Israeli forces have carried out one of the most intensive bombing campaigns of the century, reducing schools, hospitals, and apartment blocks to ash. Palestinians—already confined, stateless, and starving—are told to disappear quietly. And in the United States, many of the most powerful evangelical Christian institutions offer not protest, but prayer. They do not condemn the bombs. They bless them.

This theology of inaction extends to the climate crisis as well. Fires in Canada have darkened skies from New York to Kentucky. Rising seas threaten to erase Pacific island nations and entire Gulf communities. Extreme heat has shattered records from Delhi to Phoenix. The science is clear, and has been for decades. The cause is clear: the burning of fossil fuels for profit. And yet, rather than confront the systems responsible, many Americans—especially in religious communities—retreat into familiar verses, trusting in divine will while oil executives thank them for their silence.

This pattern is old. During the genocide of Native Americans, Christian settlers invoked scripture to justify massacres. Indigenous nations were labeled “heathens” standing in the way of Manifest Destiny. Boarding schools were built to “kill the Indian, save the man.” Entire civilizations were wiped out in the name of order, law, and even God. Churches, rather than stand with the oppressed, often operated hand-in-hand with empire. They prayed not for justice, but for tranquility—after the land had been stolen and the people erased.

In the twentieth century, many Christian leaders remained silent during the Holocaust. In the Rwandan genocide, clergy sometimes aided the killers. Again and again, the lesson is clear: serenity without resistance is complicity.

And today, we see this same quiet complicity in American Christian higher education. At Liberty University—a billion-dollar religious empire—the Serenity Prayer might just as well hang above the boardroom. The institution thrives on a mixture of fundamentalist certainty, political power, and economic ambition. Its law school has become a breeding ground for conservative legal warriors who reinterpret justice through dominionist theology. Its Jesse Helms School of Government honors a segregationist legacy while preparing students for ideological battle. Climate science is downplayed. Militarism is sanctified. And genocide—whether in the name of security or salvation—is never named.

In such an environment, prayer becomes performance. It soothes the conscience while injustice metastasizes. It gives believers a moral loophole: if change is deemed impossible, no action is required. But change is not impossible. Resistance is not futile. And silence is not neutral.

We must reclaim the Serenity Prayer from the institutions that have weaponized it. Serenity cannot be the first response to atrocity. Courage must lead, especially when the victims are silenced. Wisdom must include historical memory—of the land theft that built America, of the smoke rising from Gaza, of the forests burning in Siberia and the Sahel. And acceptance must come only after struggle, not before it.

The future will not judge us for how often we prayed, but for what we did while praying. In an age of climate catastrophe and global injustice, serenity without struggle is not peace—it is surrender.

Sources:
Reinhold Niebuhr, The Serenity Prayer and its Contexts, Library of Congress
Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz, An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States
United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA), “Gaza Emergency Reports” (2023–2025)
UN Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, Sixth Assessment Report (2023)
Human Rights Watch, “Israel: Apparent War Crimes in Gaza” (2024)
Samantha Power, "A Problem from Hell": America and the Age of Genocide
Naomi Klein, This Changes Everything
Naomi Oreskes & Erik Conway, Merchants of Doubt
Democracy Now!, “Witnessing the Gaza Bombardment”
Center for Environmental Justice, “Climate Apartheid” Report
Higher Education Inquirer, “Liberty University: A Billion-Dollar Edu-Religious Powerhouse Under the Lens” (2025)

"Crooks, Pigs, and Cockroaches": A Raw Exchange on the Resurgence of the For-Profit Grift

It started with a grim but familiar warning from a longtime borrower—someone who’s watched the student loan system implode in slow motion and seen the worst actors escape accountability:

“Well this isn't good.
New accrediting agency for colleges run and operated by for-profit college goons....
I’m sure we will see scammy colleges take off again!”

The warning was in response to recent developments in higher ed accreditation: the rise of a new accreditor with leadership tied to the same for-profit institutions that helped build a trillion-dollar debt crisis. The borrower’s tone was weary, but not surprised.

I responded, because this wasn’t news to me either:

“Thanks. That’s how neoliberalism works. It never ends. So we have to continue fighting until we can’t fight anymore.”

But I didn’t stop there. I wrote what I’ve long felt—what I’ve heard from whistleblowers, from insiders, and from people still bound by NDAs that keep the truth buried:

“Yes, crooks and pigs and cockroaches have been around forever, and they all smell money.
Even people who claim to be on our side are not really on our side. That’s why so little good happens.
I have an NDA so I can't tell you everything.

Like so many others who’ve tried to expose the rot, I’ve spoken with whistleblowers across multiple campuses. I’ve seen clear cases of fraud swept under the rug.

“Should have buried the University of Phoenix with this one,” I wrote, referencing an investigation into schools using fake enrollment paperwork to defraud taxpayers.
“And someone should have taken this story,” I added, pointing to our own work at The Higher Education Inquirer:
What the Pentagon Doesn’t Want You to See: For-Profit Colleges in the Military-Industrial-Education Complex.
“More than 30 years of grift and eight years of coverups.”

That article, like so many others exposing corruption in higher ed, was met mostly with silence. Whistleblowers risk everything, and still the stories too often disappear into the noise.

I used to have a trusted contact inside the U.S. Department of Education. But that channel dried up when the Trump administration came in and the revolving door between industry and government started spinning even faster.

So where does that leave us?

“What I’d like to see,” I wrote, “is for us to send a mole to work at AidVantage or one of the other student loan servicers.”

It’s not fantasy—it’s necessity. When the system protects grifters, when accreditors are captured, and when servicers lose records, miscalculate forgiveness, and dodge accountability, we need more than hope. We need infiltration. We need whistleblowers. We need truth.

The scam isn’t over. It’s reloading.

And we at The Higher Education Inquirer will keep exposing the crooks, pigs, and cockroaches—until we can’t fight anymore.

Sources:

• The Daily Caller: “Massive College Scams Taxpayers Out Of Student Loans With Fake Enrollment Paperwork, Whistleblowers Say”

• The Higher Education Inquirer: “What the Pentagon Doesn’t Want You to See: For-Profit Colleges in the Military-Industrial-Education Complex”

• Private correspondence with a longtime borrower, July 2025

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

Higher Learning Commission Passes the Buck on Ambow-CSU Deal

The Higher Learning Commission (HLC), the regional accreditor for Colorado State University (CSU), has refused to comment on whether it is investigating or overseeing any partnership between CSU and Ambow Education, a Chinese-American education technology company with a record of volatility, opacity, and questionable business practices.

In an email to the Higher Education Inquirer on July 28, HLC Public Information Officer Laura Janota wrote, “You would need to check with the institution regarding any specifics about its agreement with Ambow Education.” While acknowledging that HLC evaluates an institution’s offerings and operations as part of its ongoing accreditation relationship, Janota pointed to generic contractual guidance on the HLC website rather than offering any assurance that the accreditor is scrutinizing a deal involving Ambow—a company that has raised alarms due to its foray into the U.S. higher ed sector via its HybriU platform.

This type of response is not unusual for HLC, which has come under criticism for its lack of accountability and its longstanding pattern of accrediting both elite universities and subprime colleges.

As previously reported by the Higher Education Inquirer:

"Institutional accreditation is no sign of quality. Worse yet, accreditation by organizations such as the Middle States Association, Western Association of Schools and Colleges, and the Higher Learning Commission is used by subprime colleges to lend legitimacy to their predatory, low-standard operations."

According to the U.S. Department of Education, HLC currently accredits 946 Title IV-eligible institutions, opening the doors for them to collectively receive nearly $40 billion in federal student aid annually—along with billions more from the Department of Defense and Department of Veterans Affairs.

HLC accredits prestigious institutions such as the University of Chicago, University of Michigan, and Notre Dame. But it also accredits notorious subprime schools including Colorado Technical University, DeVry University, University of Phoenix, Walden University, National American University, and Purdue University Global. On the three pillars of regional accreditation—compliance, quality assurance, and quality improvement—HLC has consistently failed when it comes to oversight of predatory institutions.

Even as far back as 2000, critics within academia called out the ethical rot. The American Association of University Professors protested HLC’s support of for-profit schools. That same year, then-AAUP General Secretary Mary A. Burgan remarked:

"I really worry about the intrusion of the profit motive in the accreditation system. Some of them, as I have said, will accredit a ham sandwich."

HLC’s financial structure reinforces this compromised position: it is funded by the institutions it accredits. Over the last 30 years, HLC has collected millions of dollars in dues from some of the nation’s most predatory schools. This funding model mirrors the conflicts of interest that plagued credit rating agencies during the 2008 financial crisis—a comparison made explicitly by economists David Deming and David Figlio in a 2016 report:

“Accreditors—who are paid by the institutions themselves—appear to be ineffectual at best, much like the role of credit rating agencies during the recent financial crisis.”

Despite public attention, federal oversight of accreditors remains weak. Under the Trump-DeVos administration, regulatory protections were rolled back significantly. A 2023 internal investigation revealed that the U.S. Department of Education was not adequately monitoring accreditors, confirming what many higher education watchdogs already knew: that no one is truly watching the accreditors.

The Ambow-CSU situation underscores this systemic failure. Rather than acting as an independent reviewer, HLC has chosen to defer responsibility to the very institution it is tasked with overseeing. This is not just a case of passing the buck; it's another example of accreditors shielding themselves from accountability while public institutions are left to make private deals with for-profit entities—unchecked, unregulated, and largely unreported.

Sources:

• Email correspondence from Laura Janota, Higher Learning Commission, July 28, 2025

• https://www.hlcommission.org/institution/1046/

• Higher Education Inquirer, September 24, 2018: Higher Learning Commission: Accreditation Is No Sign of Quality

• David Deming and David Figlio, Accountability in US Education: Applying Lessons from K–12 Experience to Higher Education (2016)

• U.S. Department of Education accreditation database

• Public statements from AAUP and archived remarks by Mary A. Burgan

When American Greed is the Norm

Greed is no longer a sin in America—it’s a system. It’s a curriculum. It’s a badge of success. In the American higher education marketplace, greed is not the exception. It’s the norm.

We see it in the bloated salaries of university presidents who deliver austerity to everyone but themselves. We see it in billion-dollar endowments hoarded like dragon’s gold while students drown in debt. We see it in the metastasizing ranks of middlemen—consultants, online program managers, enrollment optimization firms—who profit off the dreams and desperation of working-class families.

But greed in American higher education is more than a few bad actors or golden parachutes. It is institutionalized, normalized, and weaponized.

The Student as Customer, the Campus as Marketplace

It began with the rebranding of education as a “return on investment,” a transaction rather than a transformation. The purpose of college was no longer to liberate the mind but to monetize the degree.

By the 1990s, under bipartisan neoliberal consensus, public colleges were defunded and forced to adopt the private sector’s logic: cut costs, raise prices, sell more. Tuition rose. Debt exploded. The ranks of administrators swelled while faculty were downsized and adjunctified. The market had spoken.

But even that wasn’t enough. A generation of edu-preneurs emerged—Silicon Valley-funded disruptors, for-profit college chains, and online program managers—who turned learning into a scalable commodity. Robocolleges like Southern New Hampshire University, Purdue Global, and the University of Phoenix began operating more like tech platforms than institutions of thought.

The result? Diploma mills at the front end and collection agencies at the back.

Greed in the Name of God and Country

Greed doesn’t always look like Wall Street. Sometimes it wears the face of morality. Religious colleges, some of them under the protection of nonprofit status, have become breeding grounds for political operatives and ideological grooming—while raking in millions through taxpayer-funded financial aid.

Liberty University, Grand Canyon University, and a host of lesser-known Bible colleges operate under a warped theology of prosperity, turning salvation into a subscription plan. Meanwhile, they push anti-democratic ideologies and funnel money toward political causes far removed from the mission of education.

Accreditation as a Shell Game

The accreditors—the supposed watchdogs of educational quality—have been largely asleep at the wheel or complicit. When greed is the norm, accountability is an inconvenience. For-profit schools regularly reinvent themselves as nonprofits. Online program managers operate in regulatory gray zones. Mergers and acquisitions disguise collapse as growth.

Accreditation agencies rubber-stamp it all, as long as the paperwork is tidy and the lobbyists are well-compensated.

Debt as Discipline

More than 43 million Americans carry federal student loan debt. Many will never escape it. This debt is not just financial—it’s ideological. It keeps the workforce compliant. It disciplines dissent. It renders critical thought a luxury.

And those who push for debt relief? They are met with moral lectures about personal responsibility—from the same lawmakers who handed trillions to banks, defense contractors, and fossil fuel companies.

Silicon Valley's Hungry Mouth

The new frontier of greed is AI. Tech giants like Google, Amazon Web Services, and Meta are embedding themselves deeper into education—not to empower learning, but to extract data, monetize behavior, and deepen surveillance. Every click, every quiz, every attendance record is a monetizable moment.

Universities, starved for funding and afraid of obsolescence, are selling access to students in exchange for access to cloud infrastructure and algorithmic tools they barely understand.

Greed Isn’t Broken—It’s Working as Designed

In this system, who wins? Not students. Not faculty. Not society.

The winners are those who turn knowledge into a commodity, compliance into virtue, and inequality into inevitability. Those who build castles from the bones of public education, then retreat behind walls of donor-backed endowments and think tanks. The winners are few. But they write the rules.

A Different Future Is Possible

If American greed is the norm, then what remains of education’s soul must be found in the margins—in the community college professor working three jobs. In the librarian defending open access. In the adjunct organizing a union. In the students refusing to be pawns in someone else’s game.

The antidote to greed is not charity—it’s solidarity.

Until justice is funded as well as football. Until learning is valued more than branding. Until access is more than a talking point on a donor brochure—then greed will remain not just a sin, but a system.

---

Sources

• U.S. Department of Education, National Center for Education Statistics

• The Century Foundation, “The OPM Industry: Profits Over Students” (2023)

• Chronicle of Higher Education, “Administrative Bloat and the Adjunct Crisis”

• IRS Nonprofit Filings, Liberty University and Grand Canyon University

• Debt Collective, “The State of Student Debt” (2025)

• Public records and audits of Title IV institutions, 2022–2024

• Higher Education Inquirer archives

The Pritzker Family Paradox: Elite Power, Higher Education, and Political Ambition

          [JB and Penny Pritzker] 

The Pritzker family stands as a symbol of wealth, influence, and access in American public life. From the luxury of Hyatt Hotels to the boardrooms of private equity and the highest ranks of government, their reach extends across economic sectors and institutional spheres. But beneath the carefully managed public image lies a troubling contradiction—one that implicates higher education, for-profit exploitation, and national politics.

Penny Pritzger

Penny Pritzker, a former U.S. Secretary of Commerce and current trustee of Harvard University, has been a key figure in shaping education policy from elite perches. She also had a working relationship with Vistria Group, a private equity firm that now owns the University of Phoenix and Risepoint. These two entities have been central to the subprime college industry—profiting from the hopes of working-class students while delivering poor outcomes and burdensome debt.

Pritzker’s relationship with Vistria runs deeper than simple association. In the late 1990s, she partnered with Vistria co-founder Marty Nesbitt to launch The Parking Spot, a national airport parking venture that brought them both business success and public recognition. When Nesbitt founded Vistria in 2013, he brought with him the experience and elite networks formed during that earlier partnership. Penny Pritzker’s family foundation—Pritzker Traubert—was among the early funders of Vistria, helping to establish its brand as a more “socially conscious” private equity firm. Although she stepped away from any formal role when she joined the Obama administration, her involvement in Vistria’s formation and funding set the stage for the firm’s expansion into sectors like for-profit education and healthcare.

Vistria’s acquisition of the University of Phoenix, and later Risepoint, positioned it as a major player in the privatization of American higher education. The firm continues to profit from schools that promise economic mobility but often deliver student debt and limited job prospects. This is not just a critique of business practices, but a systemic indictment of how elite networks shape education policy, finance, and outcomes.

Penny’s role as a trustee on the Harvard Corporation only sharpens this contradiction. Harvard, a university that markets itself as a global champion of meritocracy and inclusion, remains silent about one of its trustees helping to finance and support a firm that monetizes educational inequality. The governing body has not publicly addressed any potential conflict of interest between her Harvard role and her involvement with Vistria.

JB Pritzger

These contradictions are not limited to Penny. Her brother, J.B. Pritzker, is currently the governor of Illinois and one of the wealthiest elected officials in the country. Though he has no documented personal financial stake in Vistria, his administration has significant ties to the firm. Jesse Ruiz, J.B. Pritzker’s Deputy Governor for Education during his first term, left state government in 2022 to take a top leadership position at Vistria as General Counsel and Chief Compliance Officer.

This revolving-door dynamic—where a senior education policymaker transitions directly from a progressive administration to a private equity firm profiting from for-profit colleges—underscores the ideological alignment and operational synergy between the Pritzker political machine and firms like Vistria. While the governor publicly champions equity and expanded public education access, his administration’s former top education official is now helping manage legal and compliance operations for a firm that extracts value from struggling students and public loan programs.

J.B. Pritzker has announced plans to run for a third term as governor in 2026, but many observers believe he is positioning himself for a 2028 presidential campaign. His high-profile public appearances, pointed critiques of Donald Trump, and increased visibility in early primary states all suggest a national campaign is being tested. With his vast personal wealth, Pritzker could self-fund a serious run while drawing on elite networks built over decades—networks that include both his sister’s role at Harvard and their shared business and political allies.

Elites in US Higher Education, A Familiar Theme 

What emerges is a deeply American story—one in which the same elite networks shape both the problems and the proposed solutions. The Pritzkers are not alone in this dynamic, but their dual influence in higher education and politics makes them a case study in elite capture. They are architects and beneficiaries of a system in which public office, private equity, and nonprofit institutions converge to consolidate power.

The for-profit education sector continues to exploit regulatory gaps, marketing expensive credentials to desperate individuals while avoiding the scrutiny that traditional nonprofit colleges face. When private equity firms like Vistria acquire troubled institutions, they repackage them, restructure their branding, and keep extracting value from public loan dollars. The government lends, students borrow, and investors profit. The people left behind are those without political clout—low-income students, veterans, working parents—who believed the marketing and now face debt with little return.

Harvard’s silence, University of Phoenix’s reinvention, the rebranding of Academic Partnerships/Risepoint, and J.B. Pritzker’s ambitions all signal a troubling direction for American democracy. As more billionaires enter politics and public institutions become more dependent on private capital, the line between public service and private gain continues to erode.

The Higher Education Inquirer believes this moment demands not only scrutiny, but structural change. Until elite universities hold their trustees accountable, until political candidates reject the influence of exploitative industries, and until the public reclaims its voice in higher education policy, the Pritzker paradox will continue to define the American experience—where access to opportunity is sold to the highest bidder, and democracy is reshaped by those who can afford to buy it.

Sources
– U.S. Department of Education College Scorecard
– University of Phoenix outcome data (IPEDS, 2024)
– Harvard University governance and trustee records
– Vistria Group investor reports and public filings
– Wall Street Journal, “America’s Second-Richest Elected Official Is Acting Like He Wants to Be President” (2025)
– Associated Press, “Governor J.B. Pritzker positions himself as national Democratic leader” (2025)
– Vistria.com, “Marty Nesbitt on his friendship with Obama and what he learned from the Pritzkers”
– Politico, “Former Obama Insiders Seek Administration’s Blessing of For-Profit College Takeover” (2016)
– Vistria Group announcement, “Jesse Ruiz Joins Vistria as General Counsel and CCO” (2022)

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

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

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

A Dark Age in Plain Sight

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

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

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

The Robocolleges and the Rise of the Algorithm

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

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

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

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

Myth #1: The College Degree as Guaranteed Mobility

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

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

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

Myth #2: Innovation Through EdTech

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

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

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

Myth #3: The Digital Campus as a Public Good

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

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

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

Greed, Cheating, and Digital Amnesia

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

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

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

Myth as Memory Hole

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

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

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

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

---

Sources and References:

• Savage Inequalities, Jonathan Kozol

• Tressie McMillan Cottom, Lower Ed

• Christopher Newfield, The Great Mistake

• Nancy MacLean, Democracy in Chains

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

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

• SPARC (Scholarly Publishing and Academic Resources Coalition)

• Internet Archive reports on digital preservation

• ProPublica and The Century Foundation on OPMs and robocolleges

• Faculty union reports on librarian and archivist layoffs

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

The Reality of Higher Ed Fraud in 2025

"Fraudsters are like cockroaches"--Anonymous higher education businessman

Fraudsters are like cockroaches: persistent, hard to eliminate, and always scurrying just beneath the surface. And like cockroaches, when you see one, you can assume many more are hidden from view. In the vast, sprawling ecosystem of US higher education—a multi-trillion-dollar industry built on trust, hope, and credentials—fraud has been a lurking presence for more than a century. From diploma mills to for-profit scams, grade inflation to financial aid abuse, deceit has found fertile ground wherever oversight is weak and incentives are perverse.

The Gilded Roots of Fraud

Fraud in American higher education didn’t begin with Trump University or Corinthian Colleges. The roots go back to the 19th century, when the proliferation of unregulated “colleges” allowed opportunists to sell degrees to anyone willing to pay. These early diploma mills, often run by religious organizations or independent operators, flourished in an era before accreditation, issuing worthless credentials that nevertheless offered the illusion of legitimacy.

By the early 20th century, regional accreditation and federal involvement began to tame the worst actors, but fraud adapted. Unethical schools learned how to mimic the symbols of respectability, while federal dollars—including GI Bill money and later Pell Grants and federal student loans—provided irresistible bait.

For-Profit Colleges and the Federal ATM

The rise of for-profit higher education in the post-WWII era, especially from the 1970s onward, signaled a new chapter in educational fraud. Companies like ITT Technical Institute, Corinthian Colleges, and Education Management Corporation were publicly traded entities or private equity darlings that mastered the art of siphoning billions in taxpayer dollars while leaving students with worthless credentials and mountains of debt.

The fraud wasn’t always overt—it often came wrapped in slick marketing, predatory recruiting, falsified job placement statistics, and pressure to enroll students regardless of academic readiness. These institutions gamed federal financial aid systems, manipulating default rates and exploiting regulatory loopholes.

Even when regulators like the GAO or the Department of Education uncovered misconduct, enforcement was sporadic and too often came after the damage was done. In many cases, executives walked away with millions, while students—often from low-income, Black, Latino, and veteran communities—were left in financial ruin.

Accreditation as a Shield

One of the most confounding aspects of US higher ed fraud is the role of accreditors. Supposed to act as gatekeepers, many regional and national accreditors have served more as enablers—either asleep at the wheel or financially incentivized to look the other way. When accreditors are funded by the very institutions they review, conflict of interest becomes systemic.

This has allowed weak or outright fraudulent institutions to hide behind the veneer of legitimacy. Some accreditors, like ACICS (Accrediting Council for Independent Colleges and Schools), became infamous for rubber-stamping schools that should have been shuttered. ACICS accredited both ITT Tech and Corinthian before its federal recognition was finally revoked in 2022.

The New Wave: Online and AI-Enabled Scams

The digital age has added new dimensions to academic fraud. Online colleges like University of Phoenix, Ashford University (now University of Arizona Global Campus), and Western Governors University have raised concerns about low faculty oversight, cookie-cutter instruction, and questions about academic rigor. While not all online institutions are fraudulent, the modality makes it easier to scale shady practices and reduce accountability.

Now, with generative AI entering the classroom and enrollment systems, new questions emerge: How do we ensure academic honesty in an age of algorithmic ghostwriting? How will fraud evolve as institutions increasingly rely on automated admissions, grading, and content delivery?

And it's not just schools. Consultants, influencers, and shady loan servicers feed off the system like parasites—promising student loan relief, admissions guarantees, or academic success for a fee. In this ecosystem, fraud doesn't just survive—it thrives.

When the Roaches Scatter

Occasionally, the light shines in. Whistleblowers, investigative journalists, and government agencies have at times forced fraudsters into the open. Lawsuits have led to settlements. Schools have closed. Presidents have resigned. But like cockroaches, the fraud rarely disappears—it relocates, rebrands, and reinvents itself.

Even with borrower defense to repayment, loan forgiveness programs, and federal oversight mechanisms, restitution often comes too late. And public memory is short. Fraudulent operators have learned how to outlast administrations, court cases, and media cycles.

A Call to Radical Transparency

The Higher Education Inquirer has long called for radical transparency in US higher education. That means open data on outcomes, federal aid, loan default rates, salaries of top administrators, and accreditor performance. It means holding college leaders and board members accountable for failures—not rewarding them with golden parachutes or public pensions.

Fraud may be a permanent feature of capitalist education systems, but its impact can be minimized with independent media scrutiny, better whistleblower protections, and public investment that prioritizes students—not shareholders.

Because fraudsters are like cockroaches. You may never kill them all, but you can make the kitchen a whole lot harder to live in.

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

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/

Google, Amazon Web Services, and the Robocollege Gold Rush

The rise of robocolleges—massive, data-driven online universities like Southern New Hampshire University (SNHU), Liberty University Online, and the University of Phoenix—has not only reshaped the American higher education landscape but also become a lucrative revenue stream for Big Tech giants like Google and Amazon Web Services (AWS). These corporations, often thought of in the context of search engines or online retail, are quietly cashing in on the transformation of higher education into a sprawling digital enterprise.

Google profits primarily through its dominant advertising platform. Robocolleges spend tens of millions of dollars annually on Google Ads, targeting prospective students through highly refined search engine marketing. When a person types “online college” or “fastest bachelor’s degree,” Google’s algorithms serve up ads from SNHU, Liberty, University of Phoenix, and similar institutions, often above organic search results. These schools bid aggressively on search terms, particularly those that resonate with working adults, single parents, and veterans—populations that are more vulnerable to misleading advertising and frequently take on large student loans with low completion rates. A 2018 New York Times report revealed that the University of Phoenix spent $27 million on Google ads in a single year. SNHU and Liberty have since increased their digital marketing budgets dramatically, much of it funneled into the Google ecosystem.

But Google’s relationship with robocolleges goes far beyond advertising. Through its YouTube platform, also part of Alphabet Inc., the company monetizes education-related content and ads aimed at vulnerable populations. Whether viewers are watching videos about job interviews or financial survival, they’re often served high-pressure ads from online universities offering "flexible" degrees with "no SAT required." These targeted promotions generate both direct revenue and valuable behavioral data, which is used to optimize future advertising and extract more profit from the education market.

Amazon Web Services (AWS), the dominant player in cloud computing, profits from robocolleges in a different but equally impactful way. The University of Phoenix, for instance, migrated its entire infrastructure to AWS, entrusting Amazon with the storage and management of its student data, financial systems, and learning platforms. This move was framed as a way to increase efficiency and reduce costs, but it also locked a major for-profit university into the AWS ecosystem, with recurring fees that scale with student enrollment and data usage. Liberty University and other online-heavy institutions have also entered cloud partnerships with AWS and its competitors, making Amazon a key stakeholder in the delivery and surveillance of digital education.

The integration of Big Tech with robocolleges isn't just about services—it's about power. These tech platforms shape who gets seen and who remains invisible. Google's search and ad algorithms essentially control the public-facing narrative of higher education, prioritizing those who pay the most, not those who offer the best outcomes. Meanwhile, Amazon’s infrastructure ensures that these institutions can operate at scale with minimal human oversight, using cloud tools to automate enrollment, course delivery, and even student monitoring.

This alliance between Big Tech and robocolleges has significant implications for students, many of whom take on large debts in pursuit of degrees that may have limited labor market value. The same students who are recruited through Google ads often end up attending classes hosted on AWS servers, their tuition dollars indirectly supporting some of the richest corporations on the planet. As regulators begin to scrutinize student outcomes and loan defaults, the role of Google and Amazon in propping up this system remains largely invisible—and unaccountable.

What we are witnessing is not just the digitization of higher education, but its full-scale commercialization, driven by two of the most powerful technology firms in the world. In this new regime, education becomes a pipeline for data extraction, ad revenue, and cloud profits—where the student is no longer the customer, but the product.

Sources:
The New York Times, “How Google Took Over the Classroom” (2017)
The Chronicle of Higher Education, “Online Education’s Marketing Machine” (2020)
The Markup, “Google Is Earning Big From Predatory For-Profit Colleges” (2020)
University of Phoenix Newsroom, “University of Phoenix Moves to AWS” (2019)
SNHU Financial Statements (2020-2023)
Liberty University Marketing Disclosures (Various)
Alphabet Inc. and Amazon.com Inc. Annual Reports (2023-2024)

Robocolleges vs. Public Universities: Debt, Dropouts, and a Fraying Future

As the landscape of American higher education continues to shift, the divide between public universities and tech-heavy “robocolleges” has grown increasingly apparent. Once promoted as affordable and innovative, robocolleges are now under scrutiny for fostering high student debt and low graduation rates.

These institutions prioritize automation, outsourcing, and marketing over traditional teaching models, often sidelining academic integrity in favor of scalability.

Comparing Outcomes: Public Universities vs. Robocolleges

Feature	Public Universities	Robocolleges (e.g., for-profit/online-heavy)
Average Student Debt	~$18,350 at graduation	~$29,000 or higher
Graduation Rates	~60% for full-time students	Often below 30%
Support Services	Academic advising, tutoring, career centers	Often outsourced or minimal
Faculty Interaction	In-person, tenured professors	Automated systems or adjuncts
Cost Efficiency	Lower tuition, especially in-state	Higher cost per credit hour
Outcomes	Better job placement and earnings potential	Mixed results, often lower ROI

Sources: National Center for Education Statistics; Higher Education Inquirer research

Who Are the Robocolleges?

The following institutions have been identified by the Higher Education Inquirer as leading examples of the robocollege model:

• Liberty University Online: A nonprofit institution with massive online enrollment and over $8 billion in federal student loan debt, especially at the graduate level.

• Southern New Hampshire University (SNHU): With more than 160,000 online students, SNHU has become a leader in automation and AI-driven instruction.

• University of Phoenix: Once the largest for-profit college, now operating as a nonprofit affiliate of the University of Idaho. It has reduced instruction and services by $100 million annually while maintaining high profits.

• Colorado Technical University (CTU): Known for its use of machine learning and data analytics to manage student advising and engagement.

• Purdue University Global: A public university operating a former for-profit model, with deep ties to Kaplan Education and significant outsourcing.

• University of Arizona Global Campus (UAGC): Formerly Ashford University, now part of the University of Arizona system. It offers accelerated online degrees with limited faculty interaction.

The Robocollege Model

These schools rely on automated learning platforms, outsourced services, and aggressive marketing to attract students—often working adults, veterans, and low-income learners. While they promise flexibility and access, critics argue they deliver shallow curricula, minimal support, and poor job placement.

The Consequences

Many students leave robocolleges with significant debt and no degree to show for it. Partnerships with Online Program Managers (OPMs) like 2U and EducationDynamics have drawn criticism for deceptive recruitment practices and inflated costs. Public confidence in higher ed is eroding, and students are increasingly seeking alternative routes to meaningful work.

What’s Next?

As tuition costs rise and outcomes falter, the Higher Education Inquirer will continue investigating whether robocolleges represent a legitimate future for learning—or a cautionary tale of commercialized education gone awry.

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)