Trump’s Higher Education Crackdown: Culture War in a Cap and Gown

In a recent flurry of executive orders, former President Donald Trump has escalated his administration’s long-running war on American higher education, targeting college accreditation processes, foreign donations to universities, and elite institutions like Harvard and Columbia. Framed as a campaign for accountability and meritocracy, these actions are in reality part of a broader effort to weaponize public distrust, reinforce ideological purity tests, and strong-arm colleges into political obedience.

But even if Trump's crusade were rooted in good faith—which it clearly is not—his chosen mechanism for “fixing” higher education, the accreditation system, is already deeply flawed. It’s not just that Trump is using a broken tool for political ends—it's that the tool itself has long been part of the problem.

Accreditation: Already a Low Bar

Accreditation in U.S. higher education is often mistaken by the public as a sign of quality. In reality, it’s often a rubber stamp—granted by private agencies funded by the very schools they evaluate. “Yet in practice,” write economists David Deming and David Figlio, “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.”

As a watchdog of America’s subprime colleges and a monitor of the ongoing College Meltdown, the Higher Education Inquirer has long reported that institutional accreditation is no sign of academic quality. Worse, it is frequently used by subprime colleges as a veneer of legitimacy to mask predatory practices, inflated tuition, and low academic standards.

The Higher Learning Commission (HLC), the nation’s largest accreditor, monitors nearly a thousand institutions—ranging from prestigious schools like the University of Chicago and University of Michigan to for-profit, scandal-plagued operations such as Colorado Technical University, DeVry University, University of Phoenix, and Walden University. These subprime colleges receive billions annually in federal student aid—money that flows through an accreditation pipeline that’s barely regulated and heavily compromised.

On the three pillars of accreditation—compliance, quality assurance, and quality improvement—the Higher Learning Commission often fails spectacularly when it comes to subprime institutions. That’s not just a bug in the system; it’s the system working as designed.

Who Watches the Watchers?

Accreditors like the HLC receive dues from member institutions, giving them a vested interest in keeping their customers viable, no matter how exploitative their practices may be. Despite objections from the American Association of University Professors, the HLC has accredited for-profit colleges since 1977 and ethically questionable operations for nearly two decades.

As Mary A. Burgan, then General Secretary of the AAUP, put it bluntly in 2000:

"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..."

[Image: From CHEA: Higher Learning Commission dues for member colleges. Over the last 30 years, HLC has received millions of dollars from subprime schools like the University of Phoenix.]

The Council for Higher Education Accreditation (CHEA), which oversees accreditors, acts more like a trade association than a watchdog. Meanwhile, the U.S. Department of Education—the only federal entity with oversight responsibility—has done little to ensure quality or accountability. Under the Trump-DeVos regime, the Department actively dismantled what little regulatory framework existed, rolling back Obama-era protections that aimed to curb predatory schools and improve transparency.

In 2023, an internal investigation revealed that the Department of Education was failing to properly monitor accreditors—yet Trump’s solution is to hand even more power to this broken apparatus while demanding it serve political ends.

Harvard: Not a Victim, But a Gatekeeper of the Elite

While Trump's attacks on Harvard are rooted in personal and political animus, it's important not to portray the university as a defenseless bastion of the common good. Harvard is already deeply entrenched in elite power structures—economically, socially, and politically.

The university’s admissions policies have long favored legacy applicants, children of donors, and the ultra-wealthy. It has one of the largest endowments in the world—over $50 billion—yet its efforts to serve working-class and marginalized students remain modest in proportion to its vast resources.

Harvard has produced more Wall Street bankers, U.S. presidents, and Supreme Court justices than any other institution. Its graduates populate the upper echelons of the corporate, political, and media elite. In many ways, Harvard is the establishment Trump claims to rail against—even if his own policies often reinforce that very establishment.

Harvard is not leading a revolution in equity or access. Rather, it polishes the credentials of those already destined to lead, reinforcing a hierarchy that leaves most Americans—including working-class and first-generation students—on the outside looking in.

The Silence on Legacy Admissions

While Trump rails against elite universities in the name of “meritocracy,” there is a glaring omission in the conversation: the entrenched unfairness of legacy admissions. These policies—where applicants with familial ties to alumni receive preferential treatment—are among the most blatant violations of meritocratic ideals. Yet neither Trump’s executive orders nor the broader political discourse dare to address them.

Legacy admissions are a quiet but powerful engine of privilege, disproportionately benefiting white, wealthy students and preserving generational inequality. At institutions like Harvard, Yale, and Princeton, legacy applicants are admitted at significantly higher rates than the general pool, even when controlling for academic credentials. This practice rewards lineage over talent and undermines the very idea of equal opportunity that higher education claims to uphold.

Despite bipartisan rhetoric about fairness and access, few politicians—Democratic or Republican—have challenged the legitimacy of legacy preferences. It’s a testament to how deeply intertwined elite institutions are with the political and economic establishment. And it’s a reminder that the war on higher education is not about fixing inequalities—it’s about reshaping the system to serve different masters.

A Hypocritical Power Grab

Trump’s newfound concern with educational “results” is laced with hypocrisy. The former president’s own venture into higher education—Trump University—was a grift that ended in legal disgrace and financial restitution to defrauded students. Now, Trump is posing as the savior of academic merit, while promoting an ideologically-driven overhaul of the very system that allowed scams like his to thrive.

By focusing on elite universities, Trump exploits populist resentment while ignoring the real scandal: that billions in public funds are siphoned off by institutions with poor student outcomes and high loan default rates—many of them protected by the very accrediting agencies he now claims to reform.

Conclusion: Political Theater, Not Policy

Trump's latest actions are not reforms—they're retribution. His executive orders target symbolic elites, not systemic rot. They turn accreditation into a partisan tool while leaving the worst actors untouched—or even empowered.

Meanwhile, elite institutions like Harvard remain complicit in maintaining a class hierarchy that benefits the powerful, even as they protest their innocence in today’s political battles.

Real accountability in higher education would mean cracking down on predatory schools, reforming or replacing failed accreditors, and restoring rigorous federal oversight. But this administration isn't interested in cleaning up the swamp—it’s repurposing the muck for its own ends.

The Higher Education Inquirer remains committed to pulling back the curtain on these abuses—no matter where they come from or how well they are disguised.

The Digital Dark Ages

In this so-called Age of Information, we find ourselves plunged into a paradoxical darkness—a time when myth increasingly triumphs over truth, and justice is routinely deformed or deferred. At The Higher Education Inquirer, we call it the Digital Dark Ages.

Despite the unprecedented access to data and connectivity, we’re witnessing a decay in critical thought, a rise in disinformation, and the erosion of institutions once thought to be champions of intellectual rigor. Higher education, far from being immune, is now entangled in this digital storm—none more so than in the rise of robocolleges and the assault on public universities themselves.

The Fog of Myth

The myths of the Digital Dark Ages come packaged as innovation and access. Online education is heralded as the great equalizer—a tool to democratize knowledge and reach underserved students. But as the dust settles, a darker truth emerges: many of these online programs are not centers of enlightenment, but factories of debt and disillusionment. Myth has become a business model.

The fantasy of upward mobility through a flexible online degree masks a grim reality. The students—often working-class professionals juggling jobs and families—become robostudents, herded through algorithmic coursework with minimal human interaction. The faculty, increasingly adjunct or contract-based, become roboworkers, ghosting in and out of online discussion boards, often managing hundreds of students with little support. And behind it all stands the robocollege—a machine optimized not for education, but for profit.

The Rise of Robocolleges

The rapid growth of online-only education has introduced a new breed of institutions: for-profit, non-profit, secular, and religious, all sharing a similar DNA. Among the most prominent are Southern New Hampshire University, Grand Canyon University, Liberty University Online, University of Maryland Global Campus, Purdue University Global, Walden University, Capella University, Colorado Tech, and the rebranded former for-profits now operating under public university names, like University of Phoenix and University of Arizona Global Campus.

These robocolleges promise convenience and career readiness. In practice, they churn out thousands of credentials in fields like education, healthcare, business, and public administration—often leaving behind hundreds of billions of dollars in student loan debt.

The Robocollege Model is defined by:

• Automation Over Education

• Aggressive Marketing and Recruitment

• High Tuition with Low Return

• Shallow Curricula and Limited Academic Support

• Poor Job Placement and Overburdened Students

These institutions optimize for profit and political protection, not pedagogy. Many align themselves with right-wing agendas, blending Christian nationalism with capitalist pragmatism, while marketing themselves as the moral antidote to “woke” education.

Trump’s War on Higher Ed and DEI

Former President Donald Trump didn’t just attack political rivals—he waged an ideological war against higher education itself. Under his administration and continuing through his influence, the right has cast universities as hotbeds of liberal indoctrination, cultural decay, and bureaucratic excess. Public universities and their faculties have been relentlessly vilified as enemies of “real America.”

Central to Trump’s campaign was the targeting of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives. Executive orders banned federally funded diversity training, and right-wing media amplified the narrative that DEI was a form of “reverse racism” and leftist brainwashing. That playbook has since been adopted by Republican governors and legislatures across the country, leading to:

• Defunding DEI Offices: Entire departments dedicated to equity have been dismantled in states like Florida and Texas.

• Censorship of Curriculum: Academic freedom is under siege as laws restrict the teaching of race, gender, and American history.

• Chilling Effects on Faculty: Scholars of color, queer faculty, and those doing critical theory face retaliation, termination, or self-censorship.

• Hostile Campus Environments: Students in marginalized groups are increasingly isolated, unsupported, and surveilled.

This culture war is not simply rhetorical—it’s institutional. It weakens public confidence in higher education, strips protections for vulnerable communities, and drives talent out of teaching and research. It also feeds directly into the robocollege model, which offers a sanitized, uncritical, and commodified version of education to replace the messy, vital work of civic learning and self-reflection.

The Debt Trap and Student Loan Servitude

Today, more than 45 million Americans are trapped in a cycle of student loan debt servitude, collectively owing over $1.7 trillion. Robocolleges have played a central role in inflating this debt by promising career transformation and delivering questionable outcomes.

Debt has become a silent form of social control—disabling an entire generation’s ability to invest, build, or dissent.

• Delayed Life Milestones

• Psychological Toll

• Stalled Economic Mobility

This is not just a personal burden—it is the product of decades of deregulation, privatization, and a bipartisan consensus that treats education as a private good rather than a public right.

The Dismantling of the U.S. Department of Education

Over time, and especially under Trump-aligned officials like Betsy DeVos, the U.S. Department of Education has been hollowed out, repurposed to protect predatory institutions rather than students. Key actions include:

• Rolling Back Protections for borrowers defrauded by for-profit colleges.

• Weakening Oversight of accreditation and accountability metrics.

• Empowering Loan Servicers to act with impunity.

• Undermining Public Education in favor of vouchers, charters, and online alternatives.

The result? Robocolleges and their corporate allies are given free rein to exploit. Students are caught in the machinery. And the very institution charged with protecting educational integrity has been turned into a clearinghouse for deregulated profiteering.

Reclaiming the Idea of Higher Education

This is where we are: in a Digital Dark Age where myths drive markets, and education has become a shell of its democratic promise. But all is not lost.

Resistance lives—in underfunded community colleges, independent media, academic unions, student debt collectives, and grassroots movements that refuse to accept the commodification of learning.

What’s needed now is not another tech “solution” or rebranding campaign. We need a recommitment to education as a public good. That means:

• Rebuilding and funding public universities

• Protecting academic freedom and DEI efforts

• Canceling student debt and regulating private actors

• Restoring the Department of Education as a tool for justice

• Rethinking accreditation, equity, and access through a democratic lens

Because if we do not act now—if we do not call the Digital Dark Ages by name—we may soon forget what truth, justice, and education ever meant.

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Why College Matters: Out of Touch with Social Class Realities

Serve Marketing's Why College Matters media campaign stacks the deck in favor of higher education and expects consumers to believe the story they tell. The problem with this campaign, and its anonymous funders, is that for many folks, college (and life after college) is problematic at best and oppressive at worst. 

 

The Higher Education Disconnect: What Survey Results Miss About Americans' Real Concerns

The Why College Matters campaign presents data suggesting Americans' perceptions of higher education can be positively influenced through messaging. However, when compared with broader research on Americans' attitudes toward higher education, significant disconnects emerge. This analysis examines the gaps between the campaign's focus and the well-documented concerns Americans have about today's college experience.

The Financial Reality Gap: Debt and Affordability Concerns

The Why College Matters campaign notably avoids addressing one of the most pressing issues facing Americans considering higher education: the financial burden. This omission creates a fundamental disconnect with public sentiment.

Student Debt as a Life-Altering Burden

Recent research shows that 70% of middle-income Americans believe student loans are impacting their ability to achieve financial prosperity5. The psychological burden is equally significant, with 54% of student borrowers experiencing mental health challenges directly attributed to their debt load, including anxiety (56%) and depression (approximately 33%)8.

The campaign's focus on abstract benefits like "growing America's economic prosperity" fails to acknowledge that for many individuals, the immediate economic reality is far less promising. Student borrowers report delaying major life milestones including starting families, purchasing homes, and pursuing careers they're passionate about due to debt constraints8.

The Middle-Class Squeeze

While the campaign targets adults without college degrees as a key demographic, it misses that middle-class families face particularly acute challenges. These families often find themselves in a precarious position - too wealthy to qualify for significant need-based aid but not wealthy enough to comfortably afford college expenses13. This "middle-class squeeze" represents a significant disconnect between survey messaging and lived experience.

The Employment Reality Disconnect

Perhaps the most striking omission in the campaign's framing is the reality of post-graduation employment outcomes, which directly contradicts the economic benefit messaging.

Widespread Underemployment

Research from the Burning Glass Institute reveals a sobering statistic: 52% of recent four-year college graduates are underemployed a year after graduation, holding jobs that don't require a bachelor's degree14. Even more concerning, 45% still don't hold college-level jobs a decade after graduation14. This creates a fundamental disconnect when the campaign emphasizes workforce development without acknowledging this reality.

The "First Job Trap"

The survey frames higher education as broadly beneficial for workforce development but fails to address what researchers call the "first job trap." Data shows that 73% of graduates who start their careers in below-college-level jobs remain underemployed a decade after graduation14. This presents a significantly different picture than the campaign's simplified message about maintaining a skilled workforce.

Credential Inflation: The Devaluing Degree

The campaign messaging presumes that increased educational attainment inherently produces positive outcomes, without addressing the phenomenon of credential inflation that undermines this assumption.

Degrees as Diminishing Returns

Credential inflation refers to the declining value of educational credentials over time, creating a scenario where jobs that once required a high school diploma now demand bachelor's degrees, and positions that required bachelor's degrees now require master's or doctorates11. This creates a paradoxical situation where more education is simultaneously more necessary yet less valuable - a nuance entirely absent from the campaign narrative.

Opportunity Costs Unacknowledged

The campaign frames college primarily through its benefits, without acknowledging significant opportunity costs identified in research. These include delayed savings, fewer years in the workforce, postponement of family formation, and accumulation of debt11. This one-sided framing creates a disconnect with the lived experience of many Americans weighing these very real tradeoffs.

The Growing Generational Divide

The campaign's focus on adults aged 35-64 misses a critical demographic: younger generations who express the most skepticism about higher education's value.

Gen Z's Value Perception Crisis

Only 39% of Gen Z respondents in one study said advancing their education is important to them, and 46% don't believe college is worth the cost15. This represents a fundamental shift in attitude that the campaign's methodology doesn't capture, creating another disconnect between messaging and emerging social reality.

The Civic Disconnection Context

Research on youth disconnection shows broader trends of civic disengagement, with young Americans becoming less connected to community institutions generally19. The campaign's framing of higher education as building community connection happens against this backdrop of declining civic participation - context that provides important nuance missing from the survey design.

Mental Health Concerns: The Hidden Cost

Perhaps the most significant omission in the campaign's messaging is the documented mental health impact of the higher education experience, particularly related to financial strain.

Student Debt as Mental Health Crisis

Research demonstrates clear links between student loan debt and mental health challenges. Beyond anxiety and depression, the financial burden of education impacts overall wellbeing in ways unacknowledged by the campaign messaging816.

Postponed Lives and Dreams

The psychological impact of delayed life milestones due to educational debt creates stress that extends far beyond graduation. Student borrowers report putting their lives on hold - a reality that contradicts the campaign's emphasis on "keeping alive the American dream"8.

Ideological and Cultural Concerns

The campaign notably avoids addressing concerns about campus culture and ideological homogeneity that research shows are significant factors in changing attitudes toward higher education.

Faculty Ideological Imbalance

Research from Harvard University reveals striking ideological homogeneity among faculty, with 37% identifying as "very liberal" and just 1% as "conservative"12. This imbalance contributes to perceptions of higher education as disconnected from the values of many Americans - particularly explaining why the campaign struggled to persuade conservative Americans that "higher education plays a critical role in maintaining a healthy democracy."

Conclusion: Bridging the Perception Gap

The Why College Matters campaign demonstrates that positive messaging can improve abstract perceptions of higher education's value. However, for these improved perceptions to translate into meaningful change in Americans' relationship with higher education, campaigns must address the substantive concerns documented in research.

The disconnects identified here - regarding debt, employment outcomes, credential inflation, generational attitudes, mental health impacts, and ideological concerns - represent real issues that significantly impact Americans' decisions about higher education. Any campaign seeking to genuinely improve perceptions of higher education's value must engage with these realities rather than focusing solely on abstract benefits.

Simply improving "feelings" about higher education without addressing concrete problems risks further widening the gap between institutional messaging and public experience - potentially eroding rather than building trust in higher education as an institution.

Citations:

1. https://www.americansurveycenter.org/research/disconnected-places-and-spaces/
2. https://scholarworks.wm.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1876&context=aspubs
3. https://stevenschwartz.substack.com/p/degree-inflation-undermining-the
4. https://eab.com/about/newsroom/press/2024-first-year-experience-survey/
5. https://www.newsweek.com/student-loans-hindering-american-prosperity-survey-1839337
6. https://www.burningglassinstitute.org/research/underemployment
7. https://www.insidehighered.com/opinion/blogs/higher-ed-gamma/2024/06/03/colleges-and-universities-new-mandate-rebuild-public-trust
8. https://thehill.com/changing-america/enrichment/education/3658639-majority-of-student-loan-borrowers-link-mental-health-issues-to-their-debt/
9. https://measureofamerica.org/youth-disconnection-2024/
10. https://scholarworks.gsu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1037&context=aysps_dissertations
11. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Educational_inflation
12. https://fee.org/articles/harvard-faculty-survey-reveals-striking-ideological-bias-but-more-balanced-higher-education-options-are-emerging/
13. https://www.aaup.org/article/college-financing-and-plight-middle-class
14. https://www.insidehighered.com/news/students/academics/2024/02/22/more-half-recent-four-year-college-grads-underemployed
15. https://www.businessinsider.com/gen-z-value-of-college-higher-education-student-debt-tuition-2023-12
16. https://lbcurrent.com/opinions/2024/09/04/debts-dilemma-student-loans-and-its-effects-on-mental-health/
17. https://www.cssny.org/news/entry/national-poll-economic-hardships-american-middle-class-true-cost-of-living-press-release
18. https://www.acenet.edu/Documents/Anatomy-of-College-Tuition.pdf
19. https://www.cis.org.au/publication/degree-inflation-undermining-the-value-of-higher-education/
20. https://www.insidehighered.com/news/quick-takes/2024/05/14/third-first-year-students-experience-bias-targeting
21. https://www.rwjf.org/en/about-rwjf/newsroom/2023/10/survey-reveals-areas-of-fragmentation-and-common-ground-in-a-complicated-america.html
22. https://www.hamiltonproject.org/publication/post/regardless-of-the-cost-college-still-matters/
23. https://www.richardchambers.com/education-inflation-bad-for-education-bad-for-business/
24. https://www.aaup.org/article/data-snapshot-whom-does-campus-reform-target-and-what-are-effects
25. https://www.minneapolisfed.org/article/2007/has-middle-america-stagnated
26. https://www.reddit.com/r/StudentLoans/comments/lmijoy/why_cant_they_just_lower_tuition/
27. https://www.reddit.com/r/highereducation/comments/177qjtk/degree_inflation_is_a_huge_problem/
28. https://www.insidehighered.com/news/institutions/2025/03/06/survey-presidents-point-drivers-declining-public-trust
29. https://www.pewresearch.org/short-reads/2024/09/18/facts-about-student-loans/
30. https://stradaeducation.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/02/Talent-Disrupted.pdf
31. https://thehill.com/opinion/education/4375280-its-clear-colleges-today-lack-moral-clarity/
32. https://www.apa.org/gradpsych/2013/01/debt
33. https://center-forward.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/05/39370-Center-Forward-Student-Loans-Survey-Analysis-F04.11.23.pdf
34. https://www.highereddive.com/news/half-of-graduates-end-up-underemployed-what-does-that-mean-for-colleges/710836/
35. https://jamesgmartin.center/2019/07/exposing-the-moral-flaws-in-our-higher-education-system/
36. https://www.freedomdebtrelief.com/learn/loans/how-student-loans-affect-mental-health/
37. https://educationdata.org/student-loan-debt-by-income-level
38. https://www.insidehighered.com/news/students/careers/2024/07/01/how-concerning-underemployment-graduates
39. https://www.thefire.org/facultyreport
40. https://www.ellucian.com/news/national-survey-reveals-59-college-students-considered-dropping-out-due-financial-stress

College Meltdown 2025, Quarter 1: Here we are, at another fork in the road.

In an August 2022 interview with Gary Stocker of College Viability, I offered a chilling projection for U.S. higher education and the College Meltdown:

“The worst-case scenario is that colleges are involved on both sides of a Second US Civil War between Christian Fundamentalists and neoliberals. Working families will take the largest hit.”

It’s a stark and provocative warning, but one grounded in decades of neoliberal policy, predatory capitalism, and ideological warfare. From our perspective at the Higher Education Inquirer, the College Meltdown is not a future risk—it’s a slow-moving catastrophe already unfolding.

Two Fronts in a Cultural and Economic War

On one side of this looming conflict are Christian fundamentalists who seek to remake public education in their own image: purging curricula of critical perspectives, defunding public universities, and promoting ideological orthodoxy over inquiry.

On the other side are neoliberal technocrats, who have transformed higher education into a marketplace of credentials, debt, and precarious labor. Under their regime, colleges prioritize growth, branding, and profit over education, equity, and labor rights.

Both groups, while ideologically different, are willing to use colleges as instruments of power. In doing so, they turn institutions of higher learning into ideological battlegrounds, undermining their civic purpose.

The Educated Underclass: Evidence of Collapse

One of the most visible outcomes of this dysfunction is the rise of the educated underclass. These are people who did what they were told: they went to college, took on debt, and earned degrees. Yet instead of opportunity, they found instability.

“A large proportion of those who have attended colleges have become part of a growing educated underclass,” Shaulis noted in his interview with Stocker.

This includes:

• Adjunct instructors working multiple jobs without benefits

• Degree holders underemployed in gig work

• Students lured into expensive, low-return programs at subprime colleges

These individuals are too educated for social support but too broke for economic stability. They are the byproduct of a system that treats education as a private investment rather than a public good.

Colleges in Crisis: A Systemic Failure

At the Higher Education Inquirer, our concept of the College Meltdown describes a long-term decline marked by falling enrollment, rising costs, debt peonage, and declining academic labor conditions:

• Enrollment has been falling since 2011, with sharp declines in community colleges and regional publics.

• Student debt has exploded, with minimal returns for many graduates.

• Academic labor is being deskilled, with "robocolleges" relying on underpaid, non-tenure-track staff or automated instruction.

• State funding is shrinking, as aging populations drive up Medicaid costs and crowd out investment in public higher education.

Enter the Trump Administration (2025)

The return of Donald Trump to the presidency in 2025 has further accelerated the higher ed crisis. His administration is now actively contributing to the system’s unraveling:

Deregulation and Predatory Practices

Trump’s Department of Education is dismantling federal oversight of for-profit colleges, weakening gainful employment protections and allowing discredited institutions back into the federal aid system. This benefits subprime colleges that trap students in cycles of debt.

Political Weaponization of Higher Ed

Trump-aligned state governments and federal agencies are targeting DEI initiatives, restricting academic freedom, and enforcing ideological conformity. Public colleges are increasingly being used to wage cultural wars.

Funding Cuts and Favoritism

Funding is being diverted from public institutions toward private religious colleges and corporate-friendly training programs. Meanwhile, community colleges and regional universities are being left to die on the vine.

Undermining Debt Relief

Efforts to reform or forgive student loans have been stalled or reversed. Borrowers are left stranded in opaque systems, while private loans surge in popularity—often with worse terms and even less accountability.

A Best-Case vs. Worst-Case Future

When asked what the next few years could look like, I offered a fork in the road:

Best case: Colleges become transparent, accountable, and aligned with the public good, confronting crises like climate change, inequality, and authoritarianism.

Worst case: Colleges become entrenched ideological battlegrounds, deepening inequality and social fragmentation. The educated underclass grows, and higher education becomes an engine of despair rather than mobility.

Conclusion

The College Meltdown is not a singular event—it is a long-term systemic crisis. Under the combined forces of privatization, political polarization, and demographic stress, U.S. higher education is being hollowed out.

As colleges pick sides in a broader culture war, the public mission of higher education is being sacrificed. The working class and the educated underclass are the casualties of a system that promised prosperity but delivered precarity.

In this volatile moment, the future of American higher education may well mirror the broader American crisis: one defined by deepening divides, fraying institutions, and a desperate need for accountability, justice, and reinvention.

Chris Rufo and Right Wing "Civil Rights"

Chris Rufo’s recent article in City Journal, titled "New Right-Wing Civil-Rights Regime", is a prime example of ideological revisionism that fails to engage with history in any meaningful way. At its core, Rufo presents an interpretation of the civil rights movement and its aftermath that is both profoundly ahistorical and dangerously reductionist. While attempting to frame his argument as a critique of the modern Left’s grip on civil rights law, Rufo distorts the legacy of the 1960s civil rights movement and misrepresents the real challenges of racial justice in America today.

Chris Rufo, a senior fellow at the conservative Manhattan Institute and a prominent figure in the battle against Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) policies, has gained significant influence in recent years for his aggressive campaigns to shift the national discourse on race and education. Rufo's rise to prominence coincided with his efforts to expose and denounce critical race theory (CRT) in public education, a tactic that has been instrumental in shaping conservative rhetoric around race. His latest article continues this trend, proposing that the Trump administration's attack on DEI programs in higher education represents a necessary correction to what he perceives as a Left-wing racialist agenda.

However, Rufo’s understanding of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and its legacy is highly problematic. The article begins by referencing Christopher Caldwell’s The Age of Entitlement, a book that has been influential in certain conservative circles. Caldwell’s thesis, which Rufo echoes, argues that the Civil Rights Act marked a "fundamental departure" from America’s constitutional tradition. According to Caldwell (and by extension, Rufo), the Act, initially a noble effort to combat racial discrimination, eventually "consumed core American freedoms" and has been weaponized to entrench "left-wing racialist ideology" in American institutions. This narrative, however, overlooks the essential purpose of the Civil Rights Act—to eliminate legally sanctioned racial discrimination and provide equal protection to marginalized groups.

Rufo’s invocation of Caldwell’s book is troubling because it oversimplifies the historical context of civil rights legislation. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 was not the beginning of a long, slow descent into tyranny, as Rufo suggests, but rather the long-overdue correction of centuries of systemic racism. The idea that it was somehow a “departure” from constitutional principles is a misguided reading of both the Act’s intent and the broader history of American law. To frame the Act’s enforcement mechanisms and subsequent civil rights policies as a threat to "core American freedoms" is a distortion that erases the basic reality of racial oppression in the U.S. before and after its passage.

The Legacy of White Supremacy and Structural Racism

What Rufo and those who echo his arguments fail to acknowledge is the enduring legacy of white supremacy and structural racism that has pervaded American society for centuries. The very system of racial discrimination that the Civil Rights Act sought to dismantle is far from a relic of the past; it is woven into the fabric of American institutions, policies, and practices in ways that continue to disadvantage Black people and other people of color.

One glaring example is the practice of redlining, where federal policies explicitly denied mortgage loans and insurance to Black families and other communities of color in favor of white neighborhoods. The result was the creation of segregated, impoverished urban spaces that continue to suffer from disinvestment and lack of opportunity to this day. In many cities, predominantly Black neighborhoods were intentionally situated near polluting industries, highways, and other environmentally harmful sites—leading to environmental racism. For example, toxic waste was often dumped in or near Black communities, subjecting these populations to higher rates of asthma, cancer, and other health problems. These practices are a direct manifestation of a racist infrastructure that systematically devalued the lives and health of Black and Brown Americans.

Similarly, housing policies throughout the 20th century—especially during the post-WWII era—were designed to exclude Black families from the expanding suburban dream. The GI Bill, which offered housing subsidies to veterans returning from World War II, was administered in ways that largely excluded Black servicemen from accessing these benefits. As a result, millions of white families were able to buy homes and build wealth, while Black families were largely left out, forcing many into substandard housing or limited to racially segregated neighborhoods with fewer opportunities for economic mobility.

The effects of segregation are not limited to housing, however. In education, the legacy of white supremacy has created an unequal system that continues to affect Black and Latinx students today. While Brown v. Board of Education (1954) officially declared school segregation unconstitutional, de facto segregation still exists in many schools due to housing patterns, local funding disparities, and state and federal neglect. Predominantly Black schools often face chronic underfunding, inadequate facilities, and higher teacher turnover rates, all of which contribute to a less equitable education for students of color. The persistent racial achievement gap in standardized testing, college admissions, and career prospects is not an accident, but the direct result of this long-standing inequality in education.

In the workplace, systemic discrimination continues to be a major problem. Job discrimination against Black and Brown workers has been documented for decades, whether in hiring practices, wage disparities, or promotions. Studies show that applicants with “ethnic-sounding” names are less likely to be called back for job interviews, even when their resumes are identical to those of their white counterparts. Even in fields like law, medicine, and finance—where education and credentials are paramount—racial minorities face significant barriers to advancement.

The criminal justice system is perhaps the most visible example of how structural racism is still a significant issue in the United States. The over-policing of Black neighborhoods, mass incarceration, and the disproportionate sentencing of Black Americans for similar offenses compared to their white counterparts are stark reminders of how racial inequality remains embedded in American institutions. Rufo’s argument that we have moved past the systemic racism embedded in our society ignores this reality, while conveniently minimizing or disregarding the lived experiences of Black and Brown communities.

"Colorblindness" as a Historical Evasion

Rufo goes on to argue that the Right, for years ambivalent about civil rights law, has now discovered its “winning argument”—one grounded in “colorblind equality.” This is where the article takes a dangerous turn, suggesting that policies such as affirmative action and Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives are the result of a Left-wing plot to institutionalize racial discrimination. The article not only misrepresents the goals of such programs but also fundamentally misunderstands the role they play in a society that has never fully reckoned with its history of racial inequities.

The notion of “colorblindness” as the ideal model of equality, promoted by Rufo and others, is deeply problematic. While it may sound appealing in theory, in practice, colorblindness ignores the structural realities of race in America. It’s an abstraction that overlooks the lived experiences of racial minorities and fails to address the historical and ongoing disadvantages they face. In higher education, for example, DEI policies are designed not to perpetuate discrimination but to provide opportunities for those who have been historically excluded from academic spaces. Rufo’s argument that these policies are a form of “racialist discrimination” is not only misleading but actively harmful, suggesting that efforts to correct inequality are themselves a form of bigotry.

Chris Rufo’s Avoidance of Class in His Analysis

One of the most glaring omissions in Rufo’s analysis is his near-total avoidance of class as a factor in understanding systemic inequality. Rufo's focus is almost exclusively on race, specifically on how he perceives racial policies to be privileging one group over another, but he does not consider the ways in which class and economic status intersect with race to perpetuate inequality. This avoidance of class, particularly in the context of economic mobility and working-class struggles, weakens his entire argument and distorts the reality of how racism operates in modern American society.

Rufo’s critique of the modern civil rights regime seems to entirely ignore the vast disparities in wealth, income, and opportunity that are not simply a product of racial identity but of class-based systems of power. For example, his focus on “colorblind” equality in education does not account for the fact that the richest Americans, regardless of their racial background, have access to a far superior education and resources than the poor, who are disproportionately Black, Latinx, or Indigenous. The education gap that Rufo claims is a result of racial policies is also a direct consequence of economic inequality, where low-income communities—largely communities of color—are unable to access the same quality of education as wealthier, predominantly white communities. Acknowledging this would complicate Rufo’s narrative, as it would challenge the simplistic framing of a racial conflict between different ethnic groups, rather than a structural critique of the class divide in America.

Moreover, Rufo’s call for a “colorblind” society effectively erases the fact that poverty and economic disempowerment are racialized in ways that cannot be understood without examining the intersection of race and class. By focusing solely on racial hierarchy without addressing the role that economic disparity plays in sustaining social divisions, Rufo contributes to a larger ideological erasure of class struggle from the national conversation. His avoidance of class is a deliberate one, as it allows him to cast the issue of racial justice solely in terms of “identity politics” and to dismiss efforts aimed at addressing material inequality as divisive or unnecessary.

Who Will Be Receptive to This Propaganda?

While Rufo's article represents a highly selective interpretation of civil rights history, it will likely resonate with certain groups whose political and cultural leanings align with his critique of left-wing ideologies. These are individuals who believe that the modern civil rights agenda, particularly in the form of DEI and affirmative action programs, has gone too far and is now harmful to the interests of "oppressor" groups like white people, men, and even some Asian Americans. This demographic includes:

1. Conservative and Libertarian Thinkers: Many who align with conservative or libertarian ideologies are drawn to the narrative that civil rights policies have become a tool of social engineering, seeking to dismantle traditional values in the name of racial and gender equality. Rufo’s emphasis on "colorblind" policies will appeal to those who see government intervention as an overreach and prefer individual merit over group-based policies.

2. Populist Right-Wing Activists: The article will likely resonate with populist voters who view institutions like the Ivy League universities as bastions of elitism and left-wing ideologies. These individuals are often distrustful of academic institutions, the media, and governmental institutions, and Rufo’s framing of DEI as racialist discrimination plays into their fears of being "marginalized" in favor of minority groups.

3. Cultural War Foot Soldiers: Many of Rufo’s ideas are packaged as part of the broader culture wars. His framing of CRT, DEI, and "wokeness" as threats to American values is designed to rally those who feel alienated by changes in cultural norms, especially regarding race, gender, and identity. This group tends to be more reactive to what they perceive as a breakdown in social order, and Rufo provides a coherent narrative that positions them as defenders of a traditional, meritocratic society.

4. Right-Wing Media Consumers: The article is likely to appeal to consumers of right-wing media who are already attuned to the language of cultural decline and political correctness. These readers will be receptive to Rufo’s framing because it aligns with familiar themes promoted by conservative pundits.

In the end, Rufo’s narrative is one that is carefully designed for a particular audience—a segment of the American populace that feels threatened by the cultural shifts around race, identity, and equality. By presenting a revisionist history of civil rights and ignoring the deeply embedded structural inequalities of class, race, and economics, Rufo continues to peddle an ideological framework that is more about cultural warfare than actual justice.

Higher Education Inquirer continues to follow IPO/sale of University of Phoenix

On March 6, 2025, Apollo and Vistria publicly announced a possible IPO or sale of the University of Phoenix.  These companies have been trying to sell the University of Phoenix since 2021, but there have been no takers. The owners claim the school is worth $1.5B to $1.7B, but we (and experts we know) are skeptical, given the financials we have seen so far. The University of Phoenix was previously on sale for about $500M-$700M but the University of Arkansas System, the State of Idaho, and apparently other colleges declined the offers. 

The University of Phoenix offers subprime education to folks, historically targeting servicemembers, veterans, and people of color. While some students may profit from these robocollege credentials, one wonders what these workers actually learn. The current student-teacher ratio at the University of Phoenix, according to the US Department of Education, is 132 to 1.   

The University of Phoenix has faced a number of scandals, sometimes getting away with no penalty, and other times paying large fines.  

In 2023 we made a Freedom of Action (FOIA) request to the US Department of Education (ED) to get Phoenix's most recent audited financials. In March 2025, more than 20 months later, we were provided with a 35-page report, audited by Deloitte, with numbers from 2021 and 2022. 

HEI has filed a number of FOIAs with ED and discovered that almost 1 million former University of Phoenix students owe approximately $21.6 Billion in student loan debt. In addition, about 19,000 borrowers have had their student loans forgiven as a result of the Sweet v Cardona Borrower Defense to Repayment case.  According to ED FOIA 23-02373-F, more than 73,000 have filed fraud claims against the school. 

This month the Higher Education Inquirer followed up with a Freedom of Information request with the ED to obtain more up-to-date financial numbers for the University of Phoenix. We hope they will be responsive and timely enough to get the word out to the public.   

How University of Arizona Global Campus’ Online Recruitment Ads Drain Its Finances (Jeremy Bauer-Wolf)

In 2020, the University of Arizona acquired Ashford University, an online for-profit college that a California court later found guilty of having deceived students about job prospects, transfer opportunities, and degree costs.

Feeling pressured to better compete in the online education market — especially as Arizona State University broadened its virtual options — University of Arizona leaders recast Ashford as the University of Arizona Global Campus, or UAGC.

Administrators pledged to rehabilitate UAGC and abandon the exploitation that landed the former Ashford in legal hot water. UAGC, as its president said in 2022, is “well-positioned to provide adult learners with affordable college credentials that can better prepare them for careers in a rapidly evolving global economy.”

But beneath the rebranding efforts, problems remain. The University of Arizona has spent massively on marketing UAGC, as an audit that consultancy EY conducted last year revealed, a hallmark tactic of predatory for-profit institutions that dress up their junk degrees as prestigious offerings.

UAGC runs extensive and expensive ad campaigns on Google and Facebook, yet fewer than 1% of those reached enroll. This amounts to the university paying $11,521 for every student enrolled from those campaigns, the audit shows.

For context, this is almost as much as the University of Arizona’s in-state tuition and fees per student in the 2023-24 academic year, which federal data estimates to be about $13,000.

And one higher ed consultancy, RNL, found that in 2022, the median cost of recruiting an undergraduate student, minus personnel expenses, was only $1,652 for a four-year private college and $282 at a four-year public institution (though proponents of online education argue this is comparing apples to oranges).

But ultimately, UAGC’s investment has not improved enrollment. It continues to bleed, as it did in Ashford’s later days, dropping from about 107,000 students in fiscal year 2015 to 51,000 in fiscal year 2023.

Criticism from some of the University of Arizona’s faculty has also erupted. In the waning days of 2024, Nolan Cabrera, a professor at the university’s Center for the Study of Higher Education, wrote a public warning to students, urging them not to enroll in UAGC.

Cabrera told New America in a later interview he went public with his criticisms to protect students — and the University of Arizona’s reputation. UAGC, he said, is only hurting students with poor-quality programs, draining resources and sullying its standing as a top-class, R1 institution.

Blake Naughton, UAGC’s vice provost for academic affairs, teaching, and learning for online initiatives said in an emailed statement that “accreditors, government agencies, and other external reviewers” recognize “UAGC’s commitment to the quality of its degree programs.”

“UAGC has developed an innovative model that is validated through reaffirmations of quality by UAGC’s institutional and programmatic accreditors, which includes Quality Matters certification representing the gold standard in online courses, and enthusiastic partnerships with businesses and military employers,” Naughton said. “Further, UAGC faculty are leaders in the scholarship of online teaching and learning, regularly publishing and presenting on the efficacy of its ‘quality at scale’ model.”

The Creation of UAGC

Those inside and out of University of Arizona — state officials, faculty, college students and their advocates — were immediately skeptical of UAGC’s potential quality and value when the university acquired Ashford in 2020. The deal was a complex one that involved the University of Arizona creating a new nonprofit entity, which bought Ashford for $1. In return, UAGC would provide almost 20% of annual tuition revenue to Ashford’s former parent company, Zovio, though that arrangement later fell apart in 2022.

Before the acquisition, Ashford followed the blueprint of one of the most notorious for-profit colleges in American history: the University of Phoenix. Andrew S. Clark — an executive who contributed to the University of Phoenix’s rise — and the company he later worked for, Bridgepoint, replicated deceptive practices around credit transfers, financial aid, and recruitment at Ashford.

In 2017, California’s attorney general alleged Ashford misled prospective students about their chances of securing financial aid, the cost of attendance, the transferability of credits, and how well its programs prepared them for certain careers. The attorney general also accused it of deceiving investors and the public by exaggerating the percentage of working alumni who said their degree helped them in their current jobs.

This complaint was still unresolved by the time University of Arizona acquired it in 2020.

In 2022, the court ruled against Ashford and Zovio. The judge in the case was persuaded by estimates that Zovio made roughly 1.2 million misleading calls to potential students from March 2009 to April 2020.

The University of Arizona painstakingly crafted a public relations campaign to try to cleave UAGC’s reputation from Ashford’s. This was despite widespread concerns among its faculty and staff about Ashford, Cabrera said in an interview.

The administration never truly responded to those fears that Ashford was still peddling poor-quality education, he said. In fact, negotiations surrounding Ashford were so secretive that University of Arizona representatives who were involved with them signed non-disclosure agreements, obfuscating details of the deal, Cabrera argued. (The University of Arizona has said because Zovio was a publicly traded company, the institution “was required to undertake its work on a confidential and ‘need to know’ basis.”)

“You know the old adage, ‘you get what you pay for’?,” Cabrera said, referring to the $1 price tag of the acquisition. “That should tell you everything you need to know.”

UAGC has maintained an anemic graduation rate, only reaching 15% to 20% after the University of Arizona’s acquisition, according to the audit. The University of Arizona’s graduation rate stands between 60% to 70%. The retention rate of full-time students has also only improved modestly, from 24% in 2019 to 30% in 2022, according to federal data.

Mitch Zak, a University of Arizona spokesperson, said in a statement that it and UAGC have different academic models, thus their graduation rates aren’t comparable.

“The majority of UAGC students are working adults and military service members with varying priorities and responsibilities, which results in their taking fewer courses per year than traditional U of A students,” Zak said. “Non-traditional online students nationwide are not expected to graduate in the same timeframe as traditional university undergraduates.”

Recent news reports have also detailed how, like Ashford’s graduates, some UAGC students have said they can’t find sound jobs after leaving and alleged that the institution misled them about the value and cost of their degrees.

Cabrera said the University of Arizona’s leaders have not prioritized improving student outcomes, but rather an online education arms race and particularly beating out Arizona State, reflecting the longstanding rivalry between the two most prominent public universities in the state.

Cabrera said the two institutions are in constant competition — in public college rankings, like U.S. News & World Report’s, in enrolling more students, and other peripheral aspects of their academics, such as who employs more Nobel Prize laureates.

But if the University of Arizona’s leadership was so worried about its reputation, it shouldn’t have scooped up Ashford, Cabrera argued. Its association with Ashford and its shoddy education demeans the value of a University of Arizona degree, too, he said.

Zak pushed back against Cabrera’s allegation, saying that “priority is to ensure that UAGC is meeting the needs of its students, most of whom could not access traditional higher education.”

He also separately in his statement criticized Cabrera, saying the professor is not an expert in online education and did not reach out to UAGC leaders or faculty “to learn more about the differences between the U of A and UAGC as well as the complexities associated with providing access to higher education to working professionals.”

Major Marketing Costs

Amid this firestorm, UAGC’s enrollments continue to slip.

Zak argued this decline “was expected and planned for during the transitional period” as the institution works to integrate the former Ashford into the University of Arizona. He said UAGC is trying to lift enrollment, including through programs that help stopped out students return to college.

Still, the enrollment downturn raises questions in particular about the efficiency of its marketing efforts.

While the analysis doesn’t reveal the full extent of UAGC’s marketing splurge, it likely devotes hundreds of millions of dollars to it, based on figures in the EY audit. A similar institution to UAGC, the University of Maryland Global Campus, also dropped $500 million on just two six-year advertising contracts, according to a separate audit.

UAGC is investing significantly in lead generation, a strategy colleges have tried for more than a decade. They pay for advertisements to appear on webpages, particularly social media platforms, that typically summarize a program and also try to entice prospective students to click a new link for more information.

That ad takes prospects to a separate webpage, where they can fill in their name and other information, becoming a “lead” that a college can try to convince them to enroll.

Yet UAGC’s use of lead generation has been astonishingly fruitless, the audit shows.

Fewer than 1% of students reached through UAGC’s top five paid marketing sources, including Google and Facebook, actually enroll. The numbers concerning Facebook are particularly bleak — only 0.5% of prospective students end up enrolling at UAGC after clicking an advertisement on the platform. The auditor said this means it effectively costs the university more than $34,000 in marketing dollars just for one person to enroll from Facebook.

Even UAGC’s most successful lead generation source — Google search ads — converted just 3% of prospects, with each enrollment costing more than $7,500.

These figures are even more staggering considering UAGC pays to find 85% of its prospects, according to the audit. By contrast, Arizona Online — the university’s self-created online program, which still operates, in parallel to UAGC — buys just 50% of its student leads.

Zak said that UAGC has since “refined” its marketing to “prioritize efficiency and effectiveness,” but did not go into greater detail.

“UAGC has implemented a targeted approach in alignment with its mission of serving non-traditional learners,” Zak said. “UAGC is focused on retention and success and focuses on students who are most likely to benefit from a flexible and supportive learning environment. UAGC leverages data analytics, audience segmentation, and advanced tracking mechanisms to help improve conversion rates and reduce marketing costs.”

He later said that UAGC serves nontraditional students like working adults, military members and first-generation college attendees.

“Reaching those students in a competitive marketplace requires a different approach than traditional four-year universities,” Zak said.

The University of Arizona has faced budget problems broadly and last year said it had a $177 million budget deficit, which it has since reduced significantly.

But for all the university’s publicity efforts around UAGC, prospective students recognize Arizona Online as part of the institution’s brand, more so than UAGC, the audit said. Maintaining both platforms has actually spurred “market confusion,” according to the audit.

To remedy this, the University of Arizona has angled to integrate UAGC and Arizona Online, and Zak pointed to a university statement last year that said the audit findings validate this merger.

Still, this “confusion” underscores broader marketing challenges, like relying heavily on lead generation, a strategy UAGC has leaned into despite the fact that experts have said it’s inefficient to boost enrollment.

In part, that’s because institutions don’t recognize that students won’t make life-altering choices, like where to attend college, based on what’s essentially a pop-up ad, two marketing experts wrote in a 2022 essay.

“Prospective students prudently take their time researching your programs’ offerings in addition to many others,’” they wrote. “They are not naïve, impatient or easily persuaded by glitzy ads and copy. They spend many months researching and deliberating.”

Worse, lead generation can be used for nefarious or even predatory recruitment efforts. Some lead generation companies, for instance, have caught consequences from the Federal Trade Commission, particularly those that target current and former military members.

What To Do Now?

Thus far, the University of Arizona Global Campus is a failed experiment, Cabrera said. He was inspired to publish his concerns about UAGC publicly after students enrolled in its programs began to reach out to him.

Students were distressed. They told him in emails and direct messages on social media that UAGC faculty in education programs couldn’t guide them properly. He said he lost count of how many students contacted him — he estimated more than 20 over an 18-month period.

“For all the political bickering, real students are getting hurt, real students getting harmed here,” Cabrera said. “They’re making a bet, but students are getting hurt in the process.”

The University of Arizona declined to comment on the UAGC students who contacted Cabrera. UAGC faculty later wrote a public rebuttal to Cabrera, arguing his piece was based on his “rather than on facts and thus lacked the academic rigor of factual data from credible sources.”

But the UAGC faculty piece did not refute specifically any data Cabrera cited, including numbers from the EY audit.

In Zak’s emailed statement, he said UAGC students “have access to academic support teams, career services, student access and wellness support teams, and a combination of tools, technology, and guidance to help them progress.”

Cabrera remains unconvinced.

He said the University of Arizona’s leaders have not fulfilled their promise to purge the educational sins of Ashford. The reality is that enrollment continues to plummet, while UAGC’s exorbitant spending on lead generation, with little return, highlights a systemic issue: UAGC, Cabrera said, has seemingly prioritized its push for new students over reforming Ashford’s remnants, which is still making headlines.

This month, the U.S. Department of Education announced it would cancel $4.5 billion in loans for 261,000 students who attended Ashford. And last year, the Education Department discharged $72 million in loan obligations for more than 2,300 former Ashford students.

In light of some of the continued problems, the University of Arizona should reassess its fundamentals of online education. It should prioritize meeting the core principles of academic quality and comprehensive student support over marketing its new venture. A stronger focus on student needs would drive more meaningful outcomes and enhance the university’s reputation in the online education space.

As Cabrera suggested, without a realignment of priorities, UAGC risks being an expensive endeavor with little impact. Its reliance on extensive marketing campaigns, like flashy Facebook ads, may eventually draw attention but will struggle to make up for the gaps in delivering long-term value to students.

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