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)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neoliberalism, Accreditation, and the Endless Reinvention of Higher Ed Scams

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 sprawling, trillion-dollar ecosystem of American higher education—built on trust, hope, and credentials—fraud has been a constant companion. And under neoliberalism, it doesn’t just survive. It adapts, multiplies, and thrives.

The case of Anthony Bieda and the newly formed National Association for Academic Excellence (NAAE) is a vivid reminder of how this ecosystem protects and even rewards those who have failed the public. Bieda, a former executive at the disgraced Accrediting Council for Independent Colleges and Schools (ACICS), is now fronting a fresh accreditation startup, backed by conservative donors and political forces aligned with Donald Trump’s vision for higher ed deregulation.

NAAE’s mission is to provide a “holistic,” “anti-woke” alternative to traditional accreditors, evaluating colleges not on outcomes like graduation rates or job placement, but on how they shape the “human person.” It's vague, ideological, and intentionally opaque. Even Bieda admits the metrics are a secret—soon to be intellectual property.

Fraud in American higher education didn’t start with Trump University or Corinthian Colleges. It dates back to the 19th century, when diploma mills sold degrees like snake oil. In the early 20th century, accreditation systems emerged to clean up the mess—but fraud simply evolved. As the federal government opened the spigot of student aid after World War II, for-profit colleges and shady operators followed the money.

By the 2000s, the con had been professionalized. Publicly traded companies like Corinthian and ITT Tech learned how to game the system, using slick advertising, inflated job placement rates, and predatory recruiting to rake in billions in Title IV funds. The students—often low-income, Black, Latino, veterans, or single mothers—were left with broken promises and ballooning debt.

The watchdogs failed them. And some, like ACICS, weren’t just negligent—they were complicit.

In theory, accreditors are gatekeepers. In practice, they’ve too often been enablers. Accreditation bodies are funded by the very institutions they review, leading to deep structural conflicts of interest. ACICS became notorious for accrediting schools that federal and state regulators had flagged as predatory. After years of scrutiny, it was finally shut down in 2022.

Yet here we are, three years later, with ACICS’s former leader launching a new accrediting agency, this time cloaked in the language of "freedom of thought" and "anti-wokeness." Backed by the American Academy of Sciences and Letters (AASL), which insists it’s apolitical despite pushing overt culture war themes, NAAE is asking to be trusted with federal gatekeeping power.

It’s neoliberalism in action: dismantle public systems, defang oversight, and recycle failed leaders with fresh branding. The logic isn’t about protecting students—it’s about deregulating markets under the guise of reform.

The digital age has only made things worse. Online colleges with low academic standards, limited faculty oversight, and profit-driven motives are booming. AI will soon be used not just in instruction and grading, but in accreditation assessments themselves. NAAE promises to use AI to detect inconsistencies and enforce its vague standards. But when the standards themselves are ideological and untested, automation becomes a smokescreen.

Meanwhile, shady consultants, student loan relief scammers, and credentialing platforms are multiplying. It's not just about bad schools anymore—it’s an entire financialized ecosystem that treats students as data points and debtors.

Occasionally, the public sees the fraud for what it is. Corinthian and ITT collapsed. Whistleblowers have emerged. Borrower defense lawsuits have won relief. But like cockroaches, fraudsters scatter and reassemble elsewhere. They form new schools, new agencies, new lobbies. They rebrand and wait for the political winds to shift.

And with Trump pushing to dismantle the Department of Education and rewrite accreditation rules by executive order, the roaches are back in the kitchen.

At the Higher Education Inquirer, we believe fraud is not just a byproduct of capitalism—it’s a feature of an underregulated, investor-driven model of education. The solution is not to invent new accreditors with old ideas, but to demand radical transparency and public accountability.

That means open data on outcomes, default rates, and executive pay. It means public audits of accreditor decisions. It requires whistleblower protections for staff and students. And it must include criminal and financial penalties for institutional fraud.

Because fraudsters are like cockroaches. You may never eliminate them all—but you can turn on the lights, close the cracks, and make it a lot harder for them to scurry back into power.

Sources
Theo Scheer, “He Helped Lead a Disgraced College Accreditor. Under Trump, He Might Have Another Shot.” The Chronicle of Higher Education, July 21, 2025
U.S. Department of Education actions on ACICS (2016–2022)
Higher Education Inquirer reporting on for-profit colleges, accreditation failures, and Trump-era education policy
Interviews with whistleblowers and former students of collapsed institutions

Liberty University Online: Master’s Degree Debt Factory

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

From Moral Majority to Mass Marketing

Founded in 1971 by televangelist Jerry Falwell Sr., Liberty University was created to train “Champions for Christ.” In the 2000s, the school found new life through online education, transforming from a small evangelical college into a mega-university with nearly 95,000 online students, the vast majority of them enrolled in nontraditional and graduate programs.

By leveraging aggressive digital marketing, religious appeals, and promises of career advancement, Liberty has positioned itself as a go-to destination for working adults and military veterans seeking master's degrees. But this rapid expansion has not come without costs — especially for the students who enroll.

A For-Profit Model in Nonprofit Clothing

Though technically a nonprofit, Liberty University operates with many of the same profit-driven incentives as for-profit colleges. Its online programs generate massive revenues — an estimated $1 billion annually — thanks in large part to federal student aid programs. Students are encouraged to take on loans to pay for master’s degrees in education, counseling, business, and theology, among other fields. Many of these programs are offered in accelerated formats that cater to working adults but often lack the rigor, support, or job placement outcomes associated with traditional graduate schools.

Federal data shows that many Liberty students, especially graduate students, take on substantial debt. According to the U.S. Department of Education’s College Scorecard, the median graduate student debt at Liberty can range from $40,000 to more than $70,000, depending on the program. Meanwhile, the return on investment is often dubious, with low median earnings and high rates of student loan forbearance or default.

Exploiting Faith and Patriotism

Liberty’s marketing strategy is finely tuned to appeal to Christian conservatives, homeschoolers, veterans, and working parents. By framing education as a moral and patriotic duty, Liberty convinces students that enrolling in an online master’s program is both a personal and spiritual investment. Testimonials of “calling” and “purpose” are common, but the financial realities can be harsh.

Many students report feeling misled by promises of job readiness or licensure, especially in education and counseling fields, where state licensing requirements can differ dramatically from what Liberty prepares students for. Others cite inadequate academic support and difficulties transferring credits.

 The university spends heavily on recruitment and retention, often at the expense of student services and academic quality.

Lack of Oversight and Accountability

Liberty University benefits from minimal federal scrutiny compared to for-profit schools, largely because of its nonprofit status and political connections. The institution maintains close ties to conservative lawmakers and was a vocal supporter of the Trump administration, which rolled back regulations on higher education accountability.

Despite a series of internal scandals — including financial mismanagement, sexual misconduct cover-ups, and leadership instability following the resignation of Jerry Falwell Jr. — Liberty has continued to expand its online presence. Its graduate programs, particularly in education and counseling, remain cash cows that draw in federal loan dollars with few checks on student outcomes.

A Cautionary Tale in Christian Capitalism

The story of Liberty University Online is not just about one school. It reflects a broader trend in American higher education: the merging of religion, capitalism, and credential inflation. As more employers demand advanced degrees for mid-level jobs, and as traditional institutions struggle to adapt, schools like Liberty have seized the opportunity to market hope — even if it comes at a high cost.

For students of faith seeking upward mobility, Liberty promises a path to both spiritual and professional fulfillment. But for many, the result is a diploma accompanied by tens of thousands in debt and limited economic return. The moral reckoning may not be just for Liberty University, but for the policymakers and accreditors who continue to enable this lucrative cycle of debt and disillusionment.

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The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to investigate Liberty University Online and similar institutions as part of our ongoing series on higher education debt, inequality, and regulatory failure.

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

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.  

 

Who Rules Higher Education in Florida?

Florida has emerged as a bold experiment in the transformation of American education, a place where the traditional lines between public and private, church and state, learning and indoctrination have become increasingly blurred. The state’s sprawling educational apparatus—from taxpayer-funded religious K–12 schools to politically captured public universities and a booming for-profit college industry—has been reshaped by a tightly knit network of ideological, financial, and political interests. The central question now is no longer just what Florida’s students are learning, but who is deciding what gets taught, who profits, and who is left behind.

This transformation did not begin overnight. It accelerated sharply under the administration of Governor Ron DeSantis, who has leveraged Florida’s educational system as a tool of ideological warfare. But the system’s current shape reflects a deeper pattern of coordinated influence, in which political appointees, religious institutions, for-profit executives, and powerful donors have each claimed a stake in the state’s educational future.

At the K–12 level, Florida now operates the nation’s largest private school voucher program. House Bill 1, passed in 2023, dramatically expanded eligibility, allowing nearly every student in the state to access public funds to attend private schools. The vast majority of these schools are religious in nature, with many promoting evangelical or fundamentalist Christian ideologies. The curricula often reject mainstream science, promote historical revisionism, and enforce gender and sexual conformity. These schools are not subject to the same accreditation or teacher certification standards as public institutions. They are legally permitted to discriminate in admissions, reject LGBTQ+ students, and bypass standardized academic expectations, all while receiving millions in taxpayer subsidies.

The expansion of vouchers has created a shadow education system—one that is state-funded but privately controlled. Some schools operate out of church basements or repurposed office buildings, others are part of large religious networks tied to national political movements. While the promise of "school choice" is used to market these reforms, in practice the policy has enabled a rapid exodus of students from public schools and directed public funds into ideologically driven and poorly regulated institutions. Investigations have revealed schools with histories of fraud, abusive discipline, and woeful academic performance continuing to receive state dollars with little to no oversight.

As students age into adulthood, the ideological structure built in the K–12 years feeds directly into Florida’s remade higher education system. The state’s public universities, long regarded as rising stars in research and student access, have become targets of political intervention. The takeover of New College of Florida in 2023 marked a turning point. Once a small, progressive liberal arts college, New College was transformed into a conservative experiment through political appointments and ideological purges. Faculty were pushed out. Curriculum was rewritten. Leadership was handed to figures with close ties to right-wing think tanks.

This playbook has since been replicated across the State University System. Boards of trustees are now stacked with DeSantis allies. Presidents are chosen not for academic leadership, but for political loyalty. Diversity, equity, and inclusion programs have been banned. Faculty are monitored. Student protests are suppressed. The message is clear: Florida’s public colleges are no longer institutions for the free exchange of ideas—they are instruments of ideological alignment.

Private colleges, meanwhile, have flourished in this environment—especially those aligned with conservative religious values. The University of Miami, while officially nonsectarian, operates in close partnership with powerful biomedical and corporate interests. Rollins College, one of the most prestigious liberal arts schools in the state, remains publicly apolitical but thrives by catering to the children of Florida’s wealthy elite. Religious institutions like Ave Maria University and Palm Beach Atlantic University are more explicit in their missions. Founded with deep connections to conservative Catholic and evangelical movements, these schools are more than just educational spaces—they are ideological outposts for a political and religious project that seeks to reshape American life.

Ave Maria, established by Domino’s Pizza billionaire Tom Monaghan, operates under strict Catholic dogma and enforces a rigid moral code for students. Palm Beach Atlantic champions evangelical Christian values and produces graduates steeped in conservative social teachings. These colleges, along with others in their orbit, often serve as landing pads for students educated in the voucher-funded religious K–12 system. The ideological pipeline is seamless, and its impact is lasting.

Beneath the surface, Florida’s for-profit colleges and credential mills continue to expand, often flying under the radar. Keiser University, once for-profit and now nominally nonprofit, functions much like a for-profit entity, aggressively recruiting students and maximizing revenue through online expansion and federal aid capture. Everglades University, Full Sail University, and dozens of cosmetology, theology, and career schools target working-class Floridians, military veterans, and immigrants with promises of upward mobility. In reality, many of these institutions saddle students with unmanageable debt and provide degrees of questionable value. Oversight is weak. Accreditation standards are often minimal. The end result is a parallel higher education market that profits off desperation and systemic inequality.

Connecting these layers of Florida’s educational system is a network of donors, foundations, and political groups. Organizations like the Council for National Policy, the Heritage Foundation, and the Claremont Institute exert disproportionate influence. Billionaires like Rebekah Mercer, Ken Griffin, and the Uihlein family fund candidates, schools, and think tanks that support the dismantling of public education and the promotion of conservative Christian alternatives. Hillsdale College, though based in Michigan, has launched affiliated charter-style “classical academies” in Florida and supplies training and curriculum to school boards eager to erase what they call “woke indoctrination.”

These efforts are coordinated, strategic, and well-funded. They are not random or reactionary. They represent the construction of a new education regime—one rooted in privatization, obedience, religious orthodoxy, and political control. Academic freedom, democratic engagement, and equitable access are treated not as ideals to strive for, but as threats to be neutralized.

The result is a cradle-to-career system in which education serves power rather than challenging it. From kindergarten classrooms preaching Christian nationalism to public universities led by political appointees to debt traps disguised as colleges, Florida’s students are moving through a system designed not to liberate but to conform. The public is funding it. The powerful are steering it. And for millions of students and families, the promise of education as a ladder to opportunity is becoming another broken dream.

The question of who rules education in Florida has a chillingly clear answer. Those who profit from ignorance. Those who fear critical inquiry. Those who believe education should serve the powerful, not the people. Florida may be the future—but not one built on truth, justice, or enlightenment. It is a future built on control.

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Sources

Florida House Bill 1 (2023), Florida Legislature
Orlando Sentinel, “Florida Private Voucher Schools Often Fail Students. The State Still Pays.”
U.S. Department of Education, College Scorecard and IPEDS Data
Florida Department of Education, Private School Directory
Inside Higher Ed, “DEI Ban Signed in Florida”
Chronicle of Higher Education, “The New College Coup”
New York Times, “Florida’s Education Overhaul Has National Implications”
Council for National Policy, internal documents and reporting via The Intercept
IRS Form 990 filings for Keiser University, Ave Maria University, University of Miami
National Student Legal Defense Network, Complaints and Lawsuits Involving Florida Institutions
ProPublica, “The Billionaire Behind Ave Maria’s Catholic Utopia”
Hillsdale College, Barney Charter School Initiative: Partner School Directory and Curriculum

Choosing the Trades: Why Plumbing, HVAC, and Construction Education Can Be a Smart Start—If You Pick the Right Program

As more Americans question the cost and value of traditional college degrees, skilled trades like plumbing, HVAC (heating, ventilation, and air conditioning), and construction are gaining renewed respect. These jobs are essential, often well-paid, and generally shielded from outsourcing and automation. For students, recent graduates, and workers looking to pivot, trade education can be a practical path toward financial stability—but only if you choose your training program carefully.

Not all trade schools and programs are created equal. Some offer affordable, hands-on learning and clear pathways to employment. Others—especially some for-profit institutions—prey on students with inflated job placement claims, high tuition, and subpar instruction. The difference between a legitimate program and a predatory one can shape your entire career.

Strong Demand, Solid Wages

According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS), employment for HVAC technicians is projected to grow by 6% between 2022 and 2032. Demand for plumbers and construction laborers remains steady as well. These jobs are not only necessary—they pay fairly well:

• Plumbers earned a median wage of $60,090 in 2023.

• HVAC techs made $51,390.

• Construction laborers earned $45,990, with more for those with specialized skills or union backing.

Some skilled tradespeople eventually launch their own businesses, expanding their income potential. Others join unions, where they may receive higher wages, better job protections, and retirement benefits.

Education Without Massive Debt

One of the biggest advantages of trade education is affordability. Community colleges, union apprenticeships, and some public vocational schools offer programs that cost a fraction of a four-year degree. Many apprenticeships even pay participants as they learn, allowing students to earn a living while gaining skills.

Compare this to the average college graduate, who now leaves school with more than $30,000 in student loan debt, often without a clear path to employment.

But low cost doesn’t always mean good value. Some private trade schools, especially those operating for-profit, charge high tuition for short programs with low completion rates and weak job placement. That’s why prospective students must do their homework.

How to Choose a Quality Program

Before enrolling in a trade school or certification program, consider the following steps:

1. Check Accreditation and Licensing: Make sure the program is recognized by state or regional accreditors and meets licensure requirements for your trade.

2. Look at Completion and Placement Rates: Reputable programs will publish data on how many students finish and get jobs. Be skeptical of vague or overly optimistic claims.

3. Talk to Former Students: Ask graduates about their experiences and whether the training helped them find steady work.

4. Compare Costs: Public programs and union apprenticeships tend to be more affordable than private, for-profit schools. Don’t take out large loans without understanding your likely return on investment.

5. Beware of Pressure Sales Tactics: Legitimate schools won’t rush you into enrolling or make grand promises of guaranteed jobs.

The Risks of Predatory Schools

A 2022 report by the U.S. Government Accountability Office (GAO) found that some for-profit trade schools mislead students about costs and outcomes, while overcharging for low-quality instruction. These institutions often target veterans, immigrants, and low-income students with aggressive marketing.

Under the Biden administration, new Gainful Employment rules and Borrower Defense provisions aim to hold these schools accountable, but oversight can be slow and uneven. Once enrolled and in debt, students have few options for recourse if the program fails them.

A Real Alternative

For those who take the time to research and choose wisely, a trade education can offer something increasingly rare in today’s economy: a stable job, low or no debt, and the chance to build something real—both literally and financially.

Plumbing, HVAC, and construction are not fallback careers. They are vital professions with opportunities for growth, dignity, and independence. As society faces aging infrastructure, rising housing demand, and climate challenges, skilled tradespeople will only become more essential.

For students and jobseekers, the message is clear: You don’t have to go to a four-year college to build a solid future. But you do have to be smart about where and how you get your training.

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Sources:

• U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, Occupational Outlook Handbook (2024)

• National Center for Education Statistics, “Student Loan Debt and Completion Rates” (2023)

• U.S. Government Accountability Office, “Oversight of For-Profit Colleges” (2022)

• National Skills Coalition, “Middle-Skills Jobs and the Labor Market” (2023)

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.

From Public Good to Target of Sabotage: The Long Decline of the U.S. Postal Service

The United States Postal Service (USPS), long a pillar of American public life and a gateway to middle-class stability, is under siege. While Donald Trump’s administration played a pivotal role in accelerating its recent dysfunction, the erosion of the USPS began decades earlier—through bipartisan policy decisions, creeping privatization, technological change, and ideological hostility toward public institutions. The destruction of the USPS is not a moment, but a process. And its consequences are being felt by workers, communities, and the democratic fabric of the country.

A People’s Institution

The USPS has deep roots in American democracy and labor history. Established in 1775 with Benjamin Franklin as its first postmaster general, the service has operated under a mandate of universal delivery, regardless of geography or profitability. It became a vehicle for social and economic mobility—especially for Black Americans, veterans, immigrants, and rural citizens.

For much of the 20th century, the Postal Service was a stable, unionized employer offering family-sustaining wages. Even as industrial jobs declined, USPS employment remained a critical bridge into the middle class, particularly for African Americans. By the early 1980s, the USPS employed nearly 800,000 people—offering pensions, job security, and federal health benefits.

The Turn Toward Privatization and Market Competition

The seeds of decline were planted in the late 20th century with the rise of neoliberal economics and a bipartisan push for government efficiency, austerity, and deregulation.

In 1970, the old Post Office Department was restructured into a semi-independent entity— the U.S. Postal Service—after a massive wildcat postal strike. While the Postal Reorganization Act modernized the institution, it also removed many public-service obligations from congressional oversight, laying the groundwork for future financial manipulation.

Beginning in the 1980s and accelerating in the 1990s, the growth of private carriers like FedEx and UPS—both supported by favorable legislation and lobbying power—ate into USPS’s most profitable markets: overnight and package delivery. Rather than being forced to compete on a level playing field, USPS was legally barred from underpricing private competitors or expanding into new revenue-generating areas like banking or logistics.

Then came the internet. Email, online bill pay, and digital communications began replacing First-Class mail, which historically covered much of the USPS's operating costs. USPS mail volume peaked in 2006 at 213 billion pieces and has declined nearly 40 percent since. In 2024, total mail volume stood at just over 127 billion pieces.

The 2006 PAEA: A Manufactured Crisis

Perhaps the most destructive blow came in 2006 with the Postal Accountability and Enhancement Act (PAEA), passed by a bipartisan Congress and signed by President George W. Bush. The law required USPS to pre-fund 75 years’ worth of retiree health benefits within a 10-year window—a $5.5 billion annual burden not imposed on any other federal agency or private company.

This manufactured debt crisis gave political cover to critics who claimed the Postal Service was financially unsustainable. It also starved the institution of capital needed for modernization, infrastructure, and workforce development. For over a decade, this artificial shortfall served as justification for hiring freezes, facility closures, and service cuts.

Enter Trump: Sabotage with a Smile

By the time Donald Trump took office in 2017, USPS had already been weakened. But Trump weaponized its vulnerabilities for political gain. In 2020, amid a global pandemic and a presidential election that relied heavily on mail-in voting, Trump launched a public attack on the USPS, falsely claiming mail-in ballots were a source of massive voter fraud.

He appointed Louis DeJoy—a logistics executive and Republican megadonor—as Postmaster General. DeJoy’s appointment was rubber-stamped by a Trump-controlled USPS Board of Governors. Under DeJoy, the USPS eliminated overtime, removed sorting machines, slashed delivery routes, and cut post office hours. Predictably, mail delivery slowed, especially in swing states and communities dependent on timely postal service.

The slowdowns weren’t just political—they were material. Seniors reported late medications. Veterans didn’t receive their VA checks. Ballots were delayed. And postal workers were pushed to the brink. In Detroit and Philadelphia, on-time First-Class mail delivery dropped to below 65 percent in the summer of 2020.

Workforce Impact and Labor Erosion

The USPS has lost tens of thousands of jobs since DeJoy’s tenure began. Over 30,000 positions were eliminated between 2021 and 2024. In early 2025, the agency announced plans to cut 10,000 more jobs, many through early retirement. For a workforce that had already endured years of hiring freezes, consolidation, and low morale, these were devastating blows.

Postal unions, including the American Postal Workers Union (APWU) and the National Association of Letter Carriers (NALC), have denounced the cuts as part of a long-term strategy to hollow out the institution and pave the way for privatization.

Service Cuts and a Two-Tier America

As the USPS has weakened, its ability to provide universal service has eroded. In urban centers, lines at post offices have grown longer. In rural America, post offices have been closed or had their hours slashed. Mail delivery has become slower, less reliable, and less equitable. For millions of Americans, especially those in marginalized communities, the erosion of USPS services represents a withdrawal of the federal government from public life.

At the same time, private carriers have expanded their market share—but only where profits justify service. This has created a two-tier system: fast, expensive delivery for the wealthy and corporations; slow, underfunded service for the rest.

The Broader War on Public Infrastructure

What has happened to the U.S. Postal Service is not an isolated story. It is part of a broader neoliberal assault on public institutions and the working class. From public education to public housing, from transit systems to social security offices, the U.S. has seen a systematic hollowing out of civic infrastructure under the banner of "efficiency" and "market competition."

Trump’s actions—both deliberate and reckless—pushed the Postal Service further down a path of institutional decay. But the responsibility lies with decades of policymakers who devalued public service, dismantled regulatory protections, and enabled privatization without accountability.

A Line in the Sand

The USPS remains one of the few institutions that touches nearly every American. It has survived war, depression, technological revolution, and political sabotage. But its future is not guaranteed.

Saving the Postal Service will require not just reversing Trump-era policies, but confronting decades of bipartisan neglect. It will mean repealing harmful laws like the PAEA, investing in modernization, expanding services (like postal banking), and defending postal jobs and unions.

In a time of deep inequality and civic fragmentation, preserving the USPS is about more than mail. It’s about restoring the public good—and remembering that some things should not be for sale.

Sources:

• U.S. Postal Service 2024 Annual Report to Congress

• Bureau of Labor Statistics, Occupational Employment and Wage Statistics

• Congressional Research Service: The Postal Accountability and Enhancement Act

• The Guardian: “USPS mail slowdowns raise fears of election interference”

• AP News: “Trump says he may take control of USPS”

• Business Insider: “Privatization of USPS could harm rural areas”

• Teen Vogue: “The U.S. Postal Service and the Working Class”

• American Postal Workers Union (apwu.org)

“You Don’t Need a Tariff. You Need a Revolution”: A Viral Wake-Up Call—Or CCP Propaganda?

In a clip that’s rapidly gone viral among both left-leaning critics of neoliberalism and right-wing populists, a young Chinese TikTok influencer delivers a searing indictment of American economic decline. Fluent in English and confident in tone, the speaker lays bare what many struggling Americans already feel: that they’ve been conned by their own elites.

“They robbed you blind and you thank them for it. That’s a tragedy. That’s a scam,” the young man declares, addressing the American people directly.

The video, played and discussed on Judging Freedom with Judge Andrew Napolitano and Professor John Mearsheimer, has sparked praise—and suspicion. While the message resonates with a growing number of Americans disillusioned by the bipartisan political establishment, some are asking: Who is behind this message?

 
A Sharp Critique of American Oligarchy

In his 90-second monologue, the influencer claims U.S. oligarchs offshored manufacturing to China for profit—not diplomacy—gutting the middle class, crashing the working class, and leaving Americans with stagnating wages, unaffordable healthcare, mass addiction, and what he calls “flag-waving poverty made in China.” Meanwhile, he says, China reinvested its profits into its people, raising living standards and building infrastructure.

“What did your oligarchs do? They bought yachts, private jets, and mansions… You get stagnated wages, crippling healthcare costs, cheap dopamine, debt, and flag-waving poverty made in China.”

He ends with a provocative call: “You don’t need another tariff. You need to wake up… You need a revolution.”

It’s a blistering populist critique—and one that finds unexpected agreement from Mearsheimer, who said on the show, “I basically agree with him. I think he’s correct.”
A Message That Cuts Across Party Lines

The critique echoes themes found in Donald Trump’s early campaign rhetoric, as well as long-standing leftist arguments about neoliberal betrayal, corporate offshoring, and elite impunity. It’s the kind of message that unites the American underclass in its many forms—service workers, laid-off factory employees, disillusioned veterans, and student debtors alike.

Mearsheimer went on to argue that the U.S. national security establishment itself was compromised—that its consultants and former officials had deep financial ties to China, making them unwilling to confront the geopolitical risks of China’s rise. According to him, elites were more invested in their own gain than in the national interest.

But that raises an even more complicated question.

 
Is This an Authentic Voice—or a CCP Production?

The most provocative—and potentially overlooked—aspect of this story is the medium itself: TikTok, which is owned by ByteDance, a company under heavy scrutiny for its ties to the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). Could this slick, emotionally resonant video be part of a broader soft-power campaign?

The Chinese government has invested heavily in media operations that shape global narratives. While the content of the message may be factually accurate or emotionally true for many Americans, it’s not hard to imagine the CCP welcoming—if not engineering—videos that sow further division and distrust within the United States.

The video’s flawless production, powerful rhetoric, and clever framing—presenting China as the responsible partner and the U.S. as self-destructive—align closely with Beijing’s global messaging. Add to this the timing, with U.S.-China tensions running high over tariffs, Taiwan, and global power shifts, and the question becomes unavoidable:

Is this sincere grassroots criticism… or a polished psychological operation?

The answer may be both. It’s entirely possible that the young man believes everything he’s saying. But it’s also likely that content like this is algorithmically favored—or even quietly encouraged—by a platform closely tied to a government with every incentive to highlight American decline.
Weaponized Truth?

This is not a new tactic. During the Cold War, both the U.S. and the USSR employed truth-tellers and defectors to criticize their adversaries. But in today's digital landscape, the boundaries between propaganda, whistleblowing, and legitimate dissent are more porous than ever.

The Higher Education Inquirer has reported extensively on how American elites—across both political parties—have betrayed working people, including within the halls of higher education. That doesn’t mean we should ignore where a message comes from, or what strategic purpose it might serve.

The danger is not just foreign interference. The greater danger may be that such foreign-origin messages ring so true for so many Americans.
A Closing Thought: Listen Carefully, Then Ask Why

The influencer says:

“You let the oligarchs feed your lies while they made you fat, poor, and addicted… I don’t think you need another tariff. You need to wake up.”

He’s not wrong to say Americans have been exploited. But if the message is being boosted by a rival authoritarian state, it’s worth asking why.

America’s problems are real. Its discontent is justified. But as in all revolutions, the question is not only what we’re overthrowing—but what might take its place.

Sources:

Judging Freedom – Judge Andrew Napolitano and Professor John Mearsheimer

TikTok (ByteDance) ownership and CCP ties – Reuters, The New York Times, Wall Street Journal

The Higher Education Inquirer archives on student debt, adjunct labor, and corporate-academic complicity

Pew Research Center – Views of China, U.S. Public Opinion

Congressional hearings on TikTok and national security, 2023–2024

Trump Team Weakens Bipartisan Law That Protects Students and Veterans From Predatory Colleges (David Halperin)

On the eve of the 4th of July holiday, when they probably hoped no one was paying attention, the Trump Department of Education issued an Interpretive Rule that will make it easier for for-profit colleges to evade regulations aimed at protecting students, and especially student veterans and military service members, from low-quality schools.

The Department’s 90-10 rule, created by Congress, requires for-profit colleges to obtain at least ten percent of their revenue from sources other than taxpayer-funded federal student grants and loans, or else — if they flunk two years in a row — lose eligibility for federal aid. The purpose is to remove from federal aid those schools of such poor quality that few students, employers, or scholarship programs would put their own money into them.

For decades, low quality schools have been able to avoid accountability through a giant loophole: only Department of Education funding counted on the federal side of the 90-10 ledger, while other government funding, including GI Bill money from the VA, and tuition assistance for active duty troops and their families from the Pentagon, counted as non-federal. That situation was particularly bad because it motivated low-quality predatory schools, worried about their 90-10 ratios, to aggressively target U.S. veterans and service members for recruitment.

After years of efforts by veterans organizations and other advocates to close the loophole, Congress in 2021 passed, on a bipartisan basis, and President Biden signed, legislation that appropriately put all federal education aid, including VA and Defense Department money, on the federal side of the ledger.

The Department was required by the new law to issue regulations specifying in detail how this realignment would work, and the Department under the Biden administration did so in 2022, after engaging in a legally-mandated negotiated rulemaking that brought together representatives of relevant stakeholders. In an unusual development, that rulemaking actually achieved consensus among the groups at the table, from veterans organizations to the for-profit schools themselves, on what the final revised 90-10 rule should be.

The new rule took effect in 2023, and when the Department released the latest 90-10 calculations, for the 2023-24 academic year, sixteen for-profit colleges had flunked, compared with just five the previous year. These were mostly smaller schools, led by West Virginia’s Martinsburg College, which got 98.73 percent of its revenue from federal taxpayer dollars, and Washington DC’s Career Technical Institute, which reported 98.68 percent. Another 36 schools, including major institutions such as DeVry University, Strayer University, and American Public University, came perilously close to the line, at 89 percent or higher.

The education department last week altered the calculation by effectively restoring an old loophole that allowed for-profit colleges to use revenue from programs that are ineligible for federal aid to count on the non-federal side. That loophole was expressly addressed, via a compromise agreement, after Department officials discussed the details with representatives of for-profit colleges, during the 2022 negotiated rulemaking meetings.

All the flunking or near-flunking schools can now get a new, potentially more favorable, calculation of their 90-10 ratio under the Trump administration’s re-interpretation of the rule.

In the lawless fashion of the Trump regime, the Department has now undermined a provision of its own regulation without going through the required negotiated rulemaking process. (The Department’s notice last week included a labored argument about why its action was lawful.)

As it has done multiple times over its first six months, the Trump Department of Education, under Secretary Linda McMahon, has again taken a step that allows poor-quality predatory for-profit colleges to rip off students and taxpayers.

[Editor's note: This article originally appeared on Republic Report.]

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.

Blue Falcons: Politicians, Government Agencies, and Nonprofits Serve Themselves, Not Those Who Have Served

“Blue Falcon”—military slang for a “Buddy F****r”—refers to someone who betrays their comrades to get ahead. It’s a fitting label for disgraced U.S. Congressman Duncan Hunter, a Marine Corps veteran convicted of misusing campaign funds while cloaking himself in patriotic rhetoric. But Hunter isn’t alone. He’s emblematic of a broader betrayal—one that involves politicians, bureaucrats, predatory schools, and veteran-serving nonprofits. Together, they form an ecosystem where self-interest thrives, and veterans are left behind.

Despite endless platitudes about “supporting our troops,” the systems designed to serve veterans—especially in education—are failing. Two of the most generous and ambitious benefits ever created for veterans, the Post-9/11 GI Bill (PGIB) and Department of Defense Tuition Assistance (TA), are now riddled with waste, abuse, and profiteering. The real beneficiaries aren’t veterans, but an extensive network of for-profit colleges, lobbying firms, and institutions that exploit them.

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The GI Bill and DOD Tuition Assistance: A Pipeline for Predators

The Post-9/11 GI Bill was supposed to be a transformative benefit—a way to reward veterans with the chance to reintegrate, retrain, and succeed in the civilian world. At more than $13 billion annually, it is the single most generous higher education grant program in the country. According to a report highlighted by Derek Newton in Forbes, the GI Bill now costs more than all state scholarships and grants combined and represents half of all Pell Grant spending.

And yet, it isn’t working.

A groundbreaking study from the National Bureau of Economic Research (NBER)—conducted by researchers from Texas A&M, the University of Michigan, Dartmouth, William & Mary, and even the U.S. Department of the Treasury—delivers a scathing indictment of the program’s effectiveness. According to the report, veterans who used PGIB benefits actually earned less nine years after separating from the military than peers who didn’t attend college at all. The researchers found:

“The PGIB reduced average annual earnings nine years after separation from the Army by $900 (on a base of $32,000). Under a variety of conservative assumptions, veterans are unlikely to recoup these reduced earnings during their working careers.”

The reason? Too many veterans are enrolling in heavily marketed, low-value schools—institutions that offer little return and often leave students without degrees or meaningful credentials. Veterans from lower-skilled military occupations and those with lower test scores were particularly likely to fall into this trap. These “less advantaged” veterans not only saw worse labor market outcomes but were more likely to spend their GI Bill benefits at for-profit schools with dismal outcomes.

Even worse, the report estimated that the cost to taxpayers for every additional marginal bachelor’s degree produced by PGIB is between $486,000 and $590,000. That’s beyond inefficient—it’s exploitative.

In the Forbes article we put it bluntly:

“This is sad to say, that the GI Bill does not work for many servicemembers, veterans and their families. What's even sadder is that if you drill into the data, to the institutional and program level, it will likely be worse. There are many programs, for-profit and non-profit, that do not work out for servicemembers, veterans, and their families.”

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Tuition Assistance and the DOD’s Open Wallet

The Department of Defense’s Tuition Assistance program also faces exploitation. With few controls, it serves as an open faucet for bad actors who aggressively recruit active-duty service members through deceptive advertising, partnerships with base education offices, and endorsements from shady nonprofits. Just as with the GI Bill, predatory institutions see DOD TA not as an education resource, but as a predictable stream of federal cash.

Military leadership has done little to intervene. The same institutions flagged for fraud and poor outcomes continue to operate freely, bolstered by industry lobbyists and revolving-door influence in Washington.

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Nonprofits and Politicians: Wolves in Patriotic Clothing

The betrayal doesn’t stop with colleges. Many large veteran-serving nonprofits and “military-friendly” initiatives exist more for image than impact. Instead of helping veterans, they prop up harmful systems and launder legitimacy for the very institutions exploiting the military community.

Meanwhile, Congress talks a big game but routinely fails to act. Lawmakers from both parties show up for ribbon cuttings and Veterans Day speeches, but many take campaign donations from subprime colleges and education conglomerates that prey on veterans. They refuse to close known loopholes—like the infamous 90/10 rule—that incentivize for-profit schools to chase GI Bill funds with deceptive tactics.

And all the while, the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA)—underfunded, overburdened, and politically manipulated—struggles to provide the basic services veterans were promised.

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A Sad Reality, and a Call to Action

It’s a bitter irony that programs designed to lift up veterans often lead them into deeper debt, poorer job prospects, and wasted years. The data from NBER, the findings from watchdogs like Derek Newton, and the lived experience of thousands of veterans all point to one conclusion: the Post-9/11 GI Bill, as currently administered, is failing. And so is the broader system around it.

Veterans deserve better. They deserve:

• Strict oversight of predatory colleges and training programs

• Transparency in outcomes for veteran-serving nonprofits

• Accountability from lawmakers and government agencies

• Equitable investment in public and community college options

• A fundamental shift from patriotic lip service to real systemic reform

Until then, the Blue Falcons will continue to circle—posing as allies while feasting on the very benefits veterans fought to earn.

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The Higher Education Inquirer will continue exposing the policies, institutions, and individuals who exploit veterans under the guise of service. If you have insider information or want to share your story, contact us confidentially at gmcghee@aya.yale.edu.