End of an Era

[Editor's note: We have suspended our three decade long run of independent (muckraking) journalism and analysis and will let you know where we go from here. The 2024 lawsuit against founder/editor Dahn Shaulis (Chip Paucek and Pro Athlete Community v Dahn Shaulis) is pending. While the legal bill is enormous, we expect to win. In the meantime, please support independent voices like Richard Wolff, Roger Sollenberger, Julie K. Brown, and Troy Barile.  #veritas]

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#accountability #adjunct #AI #AImeltdown #alienation #Ambow #anomie #anxiety #austerity #BDR #bot #boycott #BRICS #charliekirk #China #civilwar #climate #collegemania #collegemeltdown #crypto #CTE #democracy #divest #doomloop #edtech #edugrift #enshittification #epstein #epsteinfiles #FAFSA #fascism #genocide #greed #IDR #incel #India #jobless #kleptocracy #labor #medugrift #moralcapital #NCAA #neoliberal #nokings #nonviolence #Palantir #protest #PSLF #PXED #QOL #rehumanization #resistance #robocollege #robostudent #roboworker #Russia #solidarity #strikedebt #surveillance #temperance #TPUSA #transparency #Trump #value #veritas #virtue #WWIII

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On our last full day of operation, we extend our deepest gratitude to the many courageous voices who have contributed to the Higher Education Inquirer over the years. Through research, reporting, whistleblowing, analysis, and public service, you have exposed inequities, challenged powerful interests, and helped the public understand the realities of higher education.

Special thanks to:
Bryan Alexander (Future Trends Forum), J. J. Anselmi (author), Devarian Baldwin (Trinity College),  Lisa Bannon (Wall Street Journal), Joe Berry (Higher Education Labor United), Kate Bronfenbrenner (Cornell), Stephen Burd (New America), Ann Bowers (Debt Collective), James Michael Brodie (Black and Gold Project Foundation), Patrick Campbell (Vets Ed Brief), Richard Cannon (activist), Kirk Carapezza (WGBH), Kevin L. Clay (Rutgers), Randall Collins (UPenn), Marianne Dissard (activist), Cory Doctorow, William Domhoff (UC Santa Cruz), Ruxandra Dumitriu, Keil Dumsch, Garrett Fitzgerald (College Recon), Glen Ford (with the ancestors), Richard Fossey (Condemned to Debt), Erica Gallagher (2U Whistleblower), Cliff Gibson III (Gibson & Keith), Henry Giroux (McMaster University), Terri Givens (University of British Columbia), Luke Goldstein (The Lever),  Nathan Grawe (Carleton College), Michael Green (UNLV), Michael Hainline (Restore the GI Bill for Veterans), Debra Hale Shelton (Arkansas Times), Stephanie M. Hall (Protect Borrowers),  David Halperin (Republic Report), Bill Harrington (Croatan Institute), Phil Hill (On EdTech), Robert Jensen (UT Austin), Seth Kahn (WCUP), Hank Kalet (Rutgers), Ben Kaufman (Protect Borrowers), Robert Kelchen (University of Tennessee), Karen Kelsky (The Professor Is In), Neil Kraus (UWRF), LACCD Whistleblower, Michelle Lee (whistleblower), Wendy Lynne Lee (Bloomsburg University of PA), Emmanuel Legeard (whistleblower), Adam Looney (University of Utah), Alec MacGillis (ProPublica), Jon Marcus (Hechinger Report), Steven Mintz (University of Texas), John D. Murphy (Mission Forsaken), Annelise Orleck (Dartmouth), Margaret Kimberly (Black Agenda Report), Austin Longhorn (UT student loan debt whistleblower), Richard Pollock (journalist), Debbi Potts (whistleblower), Jack Metzger (Roosevelt University), Derek Newton (The Cheat Sheet), Jeff Pooley (Annenberg Center), Fahmi Quadir (Safkhet Capital), Chris Quintana (USA Today), Jennifer Reed (University of Akron), Kevin Richert (Idaho Education News), Gary Roth (Rutgers-Newark), Mark Salisbury (TuitionFit), Stephanie Saul (NY Times), Christopher Serbagi (Serbagi Law), Alex Shebanow  (Fail State), Bob Shireman (TCF), Bill Skimmyhorn (William & Mary), Peter Simi (Chapman University), Jeffrey Sonnenfeld (Yale), Gary Stocker (College Viability), Strelnikov (Wikipedia Sucks), Taylor Swaak (Chronicle of Higher Education), Theresa Sweet (Sweet v Cardona), Harry Targ (Purdue University), Moe Tkacik (American Prospect),  Kim Tran (activist), Mark Twain Jr. (business insider), Michael Vasquez (The Tributary), Marina Vujnovic (Monmouth), Richard Wolff (Economic Update), Todd Wolfson (Rutgers, AFT), Helena Worthen (Higher Ed Labor United), DW (South American Correspondent), Heidi Weber (Whistleblower Revolution), Michael Yates (Monthly Review), government officials who have supported transparency and accountability, and the countless other educators, researchers, whistleblowers, advocates, and public servants whose work strengthens our understanding of higher education.

Together, you form a resilient network of knowledge, courage, and public service, showing that collective insight can illuminate even the most entrenched systems. Your dedication has been, and continues to be, invaluable.

Dahn Shaulis and Glen McGhee

Higher Education Without Illusions

In 2025, the landscape of higher education is dominated by contradictions, crises, and the relentless churn of what might be called “collegemania.” Underneath the polished veneer of university marketing—the glossy brochures, viral TikToks, and celebrity endorsements—lurks a network of systemic pressures that students, faculty, and society at large must navigate. The hashtags trending below the masthead of Higher Education Without Illusions capture the full spectrum of these pressures: #accountability, #adjunct, #AI, #AImeltdown, #algo, #alienation, #anomie, #anxiety, #austerity, #BDR, #bot, #boycott, #BRICS, #climate, #collegemania, #collegemeltdown, #crypto, #divest, #doomloop, #edugrift, #enshittification, #FAFSA, #greed, #incel, #jobless, #kleptocracy, #medugrift, #moralcapital, #nokings, #nonviolence, #PSLF, #QOL, #rehumanization, #resistance, #robocollege, #robostudent, #roboworker, #solidarity, #strikedebt, #surveillance, #temperance, #TPUSA, #transparency, #Trump, #veritas.

Taken together, these words map the terrain of higher education as it exists today: a fragile ecosystem strained by debt, automation, political polarization, and climate urgency. Students are increasingly treated as commodities (#robostudent, #strikedebt), faculty are underpaid and precarious (#adjunct, #medugrift), and universities themselves are subjected to the whims of markets and algorithms (#algo, #AImeltdown, #robocollege).

Financial pressures are unrelenting. The FAFSA system, once intended as a bridge to opportunity, now functions as a tool of surveillance and debt management (#FAFSA, #BDR). Public service loan forgiveness (#PSLF) continues to be delayed or denied, leaving graduates to navigate the twin anxieties of indebtedness and joblessness (#jobless, #doomloop). Meanwhile, austerity measures squeeze institutional budgets, often at the expense of research, mental health support, and academic freedom (#austerity, #anomie, #anxiety).

Automation and artificial intelligence are now central to the higher education ecosystem. AI grading tools, predictive enrollment algorithms, and administrative bots promise efficiency but often produce alienation and ethical dilemmas (#AI, #AImeltdown, #roboworker, #bot). In this context, “robocollege” is not a metaphor but a lived reality for many students navigating hyper-digitized classrooms where human mentorship is increasingly rare.

Political and cultural currents further complicate the picture. From the influence of conservative campus organizations (#TPUSA, #Trump) to global shifts in power (#BRICS), universities are battlegrounds for ideological and material stakes. Moral capital—the credibility and legitimacy of an institution—is increasingly intertwined with corporate sponsorships, divestment movements, and climate commitments (#moralcapital, #divest, #climate). At the same time, greed and kleptocracy (#greed, #kleptocracy) permeate administration and policy decisions, eroding trust in higher education’s social mission.

Yet amid this bleakness, there are threads of resistance and rehumanization. Student debt strikes, faculty solidarity networks, and advocacy for transparency (#strikedebt, #solidarity, #transparency, #rehumanization) reveal a persistent desire to reclaim the university as a space of collective flourishing rather than pure financial extraction. Nonviolence (#nonviolence), temperance (#temperance), and boycotts (#boycott) reflect strategic, principled responses to systemic crises, even as anxiety and alienation persist.

Ultimately, higher education without illusions demands that we confront both the structural and human dimensions of its crises. Universities are not just engines of credentialing and profit—they are social institutions embedded in broader networks of power, ideology, and technology. A recognition of #veritas and #QOL (quality of life) alongside the demands of #collegemania and #enshittification is essential for any hope of reform.

The hashtags are more than social media markers—they are diagnostics. They chart a system in flux, exposing the frictions between automation and humanity, austerity and access, greed and moral responsibility. They call on all of us—students, educators, policymakers, and citizens—to act with accountability, solidarity, and courage.

Higher education without illusions is not pessimism; it is clarity. Only by naming the pressures and contradictions can we begin to imagine institutions that serve human flourishing rather than perpetuate cycles of debt, alienation, and social inequality.

Sources & Further Reading:

• An American Sickness, Elisabeth Rosenthal

• Medical Apartheid, Harriet Washington

• Body and Soul, Alondra Nelson

• HEI coverage of student debt, adjunct labor, and AI in higher education

A Century of American Exploitation: Oil, Crypto, and the Struggle for Latin America’s Universities

Latin America—a region of thirty-three countries stretching from Mexico through Central and South America and across the Caribbean—has spent more than a century fighting against foreign exploitation. Its universities, which should anchor local prosperity, cultural autonomy, and democratic life, have instead been repeatedly reshaped by foreign corporations, U.S. government interests, global lenders, and now crypto speculators. Yet the region’s history is also defined by persistent, courageous resistance, led overwhelmingly by students, faculty, and Indigenous communities.

Understanding today’s educational crisis in Latin America requires tracing this long arc of exploitation—and the struggle to build systems rooted in equity rather than extraction.

1900s–1930s: Bananas, Oil, and the Rise of the “Banana Republics”

Early in the 20th century, American corporations established vast profit-making empires in Latin America. United Fruit Company—today’s Chiquita Banana—dominated land, labor, and politics across Guatemala, Honduras, and Costa Rica. Standard Oil and Texaco secured petroleum concessions in Venezuela and Ecuador, laying foundations for decades of foreign control that extracted immense wealth while leaving behind environmental devastation, as seen in Texaco’s toxic legacy in the Ecuadorian Amazon between 1964 and 1992.

Universities were bent toward these foreign interests. Agricultural programs were geared toward serving plantation economies, not local farmers. Engineering and geological research aligned with extractive industries, not community development.

Resistance did emerge. Student groups in Guatemala and Costa Rica formed part of early anti-oligarchic movements, linking national sovereignty to university reform. Their demands echoed global currents of democratization. Evidence of these early student-led struggles appears in archival materials and Latin American scholarship on university reform, and culminates in the influential 1918 Córdoba Manifesto in Argentina—a radical declaration that attacked oligarchic, colonial universities and demanded autonomy, co-governance, and public responsibility.

1940s–1980s: Coups, Cold War Interventions, and the Deepening of U.S. Oil Interests

During the Cold War, exploitation intensified. In Guatemala, the CIA-backed overthrow of democratically elected President Jacobo Árbenz in 1954 protected United Fruit’s land holdings. Universities were purged or militarized, and critical scholars were exiled or killed.

In Chile, the 1973 overthrow of Salvador Allende—supported by American corporate giants such as ITT and Anaconda Copper—ushered in a brutal dictatorship. Under Augusto Pinochet, thousands were murdered, tortured, or disappeared, while the Chicago Boys imported radical neoliberal reforms that privatized everything, including the higher education system.

Throughout the region, oil deals disproportionately favored American companies. Mexico and Venezuela saw petroleum wealth siphoned off through arrangements that benefited foreign investors while leaving universities underfunded and politically surveilled. Scholarship critical of foreign intervention was marginalized, while programs feeding engineers and economists to multinational firms were expanded.

Student resistance reached historic proportions. Chilean students and faculty formed the core of the anti-dictatorship movement. Mexico’s students rose in 1968, demanding democracy and university autonomy before being massacred in Tlatelolco. CIA declassified documents reveal that student uprisings across Latin America in the early 1970s were so widespread that U.S. intelligence considered them a regional threat.

1990s–2000s: Neoliberalism, Privatization, and the Americanization of Higher Education

In the 1990s, neoliberalism swept the region under pressure from Washington, the IMF, and the World Bank. After NAFTA, Mexico’s universities became increasingly aligned with corporate labor pipelines. In Brazil, Petrobras’ partnerships with American firms helped reshape engineering curricula. Private universities and for-profit models proliferated across the region, echoing U.S. higher ed corporatization.

Hugo Chávez captured the broader sentiment of resistance when he declared that public services—including education—cannot be privatized without violating fundamental rights.

Students fought back across Latin America. In Argentina and Brazil they contested tuition hikes and privatization. In Venezuela, the debate shifted toward whether oil revenue should fund tuition-free universities.

Indigenous Exclusion, Racism, and the Colonial Foundations of Inequality

One of the greatest challenges in understanding Latin American education is acknowledging the deep racial and ethnic stratification that predates U.S. exploitation but has been exacerbated by it. Countries like Ecuador, Bolivia, Peru, Mexico, Brazil, and Guatemala have large Indigenous populations that, to this day, receive the worst education—much like Native American communities relegated to underfunded reservation schools in the United States.

Racism remains powerful. Whiter populations enjoy greater economic and educational access. University admission is shaped by class and color. These divisions are not accidental; they are a machinery of control.

There have been important exceptions. Under President Rafael Correa, Ecuador built hundreds of new schools, including Siglo XXI and Millennium Schools, and expanded public education access. In Mexico, the 2019 constitutional reform strengthened Indigenous rights, including commitments to culturally relevant education. Bolivia—whose population is majority Indigenous—has promoted Indigenous languages, judicial systems, and education structures.

But progress is fragile. Austerity, IMF conditionalities, and elite resistance have led to cutbacks, school closures, and renewed privatization across the region. The study you provided on Ecuador documents Indigenous ambivalence, even hostility, toward Correa’s universal education plan—revealing how colonial wounds, cultural erasure, and distrust of state power complicate reform and provide openings for divide-and-conquer strategies long exploited by ruling classes.

These contradictions deepen when Indigenous movements—rightfully demanding no mining, no oil extraction, and protection of ancestral lands—collide with leftist governments reliant on resource extraction to fund public services. This tension is especially acute in Ecuador and Bolivia.

2010s–Present: Crypto Colonialism and a New Frontier of Exploitation

Cryptocurrency has opened a new chapter in Latin America’s long history of foreign-driven experimentation. El Salvador’s adoption of Bitcoin in 2021, promoted by President Nayib Bukele, transformed the country into a speculative test lab. Bukele has now spent more than $660 million in U.S. dollars on crypto, according to investigative reporting from InSight Crime. Universities rushed to create blockchain programs that primarily serve international investors rather than Salvadoran students.

In Venezuela, crypto became a survival tool amid hyperinflation and economic collapse. Yet foreign speculators profited while universities starved. Student groups warned that crypto research was being weaponized to normalize economic chaos and distract from public-sector deterioration.

Resistance has grown. Salvadoran students have protested the Bitcoin law, demanding that public resources focus on infrastructure, health, and education. Venezuelan students call for rebuilding social programs rather than chasing speculative financial technologies.

Contemporary Student Resistance: 2010s–2020s

Across the region, student movements remain powerful. The Chilean Winter of 2011–2013 demanded free, quality public education and challenged Pinochet’s neoliberal legacy. The movement culminated in the 2019 uprising, where education reform was central.

Mexico’s UNAM students continue to resist corruption, tuition hikes, gender violence, and the encroachment of corporate and foreign interests. The 1999–2000 UNAM strike remains one of the longest in modern higher education.

Colombian students have forced governments to negotiate and invest billions in public universities, framing their struggle as resistance to neoliberal austerity shaped by U.S. policy.

Argentina continues to face massive austerity-driven cuts, sparking protests in 2024–2025 reminiscent of earlier waves of resistance. Uruguay’s Tupamaros movement—largely student-led—remains a historical touchstone.

Every country in Latin America has experienced student uprisings. They reflect a truth that Paulo Freire, exiled from Brazil for teaching critical pedagogy, understood deeply: education can either liberate or oppress. Authoritarians, privatizers, and foreign capital prefer the latter, and they act accordingly.

Today’s Regional Education Crisis

The COVID-19 pandemic pushed the system into further crisis. Children in Latin America and the Caribbean lost one out of every two in-person school days between 2020 and 2022. Learning poverty now exceeds 50 percent. Entire generations risk permanent economic loss and civic disenfranchisement.

Infrastructure is collapsing. Rural and Indigenous communities suffer the worst conditions. Public investment is chronically insufficient because governments are trapped in cycles of debt repayment to international lenders. Ecuador has not seen a major public-investment program in a decade, as austerity and IMF repayments dominate national budgets.

The result is a system starved of resources and increasingly vulnerable to privatization schemes—including U.S.-style online coursework, ideological “instruction kits,” and for-profit degree mills.

Latin American Universities as Battlegrounds for Sovereignty

Latin America’s universities are shaped by the same forces that have dominated the region’s history: oil extraction, agribusiness, foreign capital, neoliberalism, structural racism, debt, and now crypto speculation. Yet universities have also been homes to transformation, rebellion, cultural resurgence, and hope.

Across more than a century, students—Indigenous, Afro-descendant, mestizo, working-class—have been the region’s fiercest defenders of public education and national sovereignty. Their resistance continues today, from Quito to Buenos Aires, from Mexico City to Santiago.

For readers of the Higher Education Inquirer, the lesson is clear: the struggle for higher education in Latin America is inseparable from the struggle for democracy, racial justice, Indigenous autonomy, and freedom from foreign domination. The region’s ruling elites and international lenders understand that an educated public is dangerous, which is why they starve, privatize, and discipline public schools. Students understand the opposite: that education is power, and that power must be reclaimed.

The next chapter—especially in countries like Ecuador—will depend on whether students, teachers, and communities can defend public education against the dual forces that have undermined it for more than a century: privatizers and fascists.

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Sources (Selection)

National Security Archive, CIA Declassified Documents (1971)
InSight Crime reporting on El Salvador Bitcoin expenditures
Luciani, Laura. “Latin American Student Movements in the 1960s.” Historia y Memoria (2019)
The Córdoba Manifesto (1918)
UNESCO, World Bank data on learning poverty (2024)
Latin American studies on United Fruit, Standard Oil, Texaco/Chevron in Ecuador
LASA Forum: Analysis of Indigenous responses to Correa’s education reforms
Periodico UNAL: “The Student Rebellion: Córdoba and Latin America”
Multiple regional news sources on Argentina’s 2024–2025 education protests

Generation Z and the Fractured American Dream: Class Divide, Debt, and the Search for a Future

For Generation Z, the old story of social mobility—study hard, go to college, work your way up—has lost its certainty. The class divide that once seemed bridgeable through education now feels entrenched, as debt, precarious work, and economic volatility blur the promise of progress.

The new economy—dominated by artificial intelligence, speculative assets like cryptocurrency, and inflated housing markets—has not delivered stability for most. Instead, it’s widened gaps between those who own and those who owe. Many young Americans feel locked out of wealth-building entirely. Some have turned to riskier bets—digital assets, gig work, or start-ups powered by AI tools—to chase opportunities that traditional institutions no longer provide. Others have succumbed to despair. Suicide rates among young adults have climbed sharply in recent years, correlating with financial stress, debt, and social isolation.

And echoing through this uncertain landscape is a song that first rose from the coalfields of Kentucky during the Great Depression—Florence Reece’s 1931 protest hymn, “Which Side Are You On?”

Come all you good workers,
Good news to you I’ll tell,
Of how the good old union
Has come in here to dwell.

Which side are you on?
Which side are you on?

Nearly a century later, those verses feel newly urgent—because Gen Z is again being forced to pick a side: between solidarity and survival, between reforming a broken system or resigning themselves to it.

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The Class Divide and the Broken Ladder
Despite record levels of education, Gen Z faces limited social mobility. College remains a class marker, not an equalizer. Students from affluent families attend better-funded universities, graduate on time, and often receive help with housing or job placement. Working-class and first-generation students, meanwhile, navigate under-resourced campuses, heavier debt, and weaker professional networks.

The Pew Research Center found that first-generation college graduates have nearly $100,000 less in median wealth than peers whose parents also hold degrees. For many, the degree no longer guarantees a secure foothold in the middle class—it simply delays financial independence.

They say in Harlan County,
There are no neutrals there,
You’ll either be a union man,
Or a thug for J. H. Blair.

The metaphor still fits: there are no neutrals in the modern class struggle over debt, housing, and automation.

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Debt, Doubt, and the New Normal
Gen Z borrowers owe an average of around $23,000 in student loans, a figure growing faster than any other generation’s debt load. Over half regret taking on those loans. Many delay buying homes, having children, or even seeking medical care. Those who drop out without degrees are burdened with debt and little to show for it.

The debt-based model has become a defining feature of American life—especially for the working class. The price of entry to a better future is borrowing against one’s own.

Don’t scab for the bosses,
Don’t listen to their lies,
Us poor folks haven’t got a chance
Unless we organize.

If Reece’s song once called miners to unionize against coal barons, its spirit now calls borrowers, renters, adjuncts, and gig workers to collective resistance against financial systems that profit from their precarity.

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AI and the Erosion of Work
Artificial intelligence promises efficiency, but it also threatens to hollow out the entry-level job market Gen Z depends on. Automation in journalism, design, law, and customer service cuts off rungs of the career ladder just as young workers reach for them.

While elite graduates may move into roles that supervise or profit from AI, working-class Gen Zers are more likely to face displacement. AI amplifies the class divide: it rewards those who already have capital, coding skills, or connections—and sidelines those who don’t.

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Crypto Dreams and Financial Desperation
Locked out of traditional wealth paths, many young people turned to cryptocurrency during the pandemic. Platforms like Robinhood and Coinbase promised quick gains and independence from the “rigged” economy. But when crypto markets crashed in 2022, billions in speculative wealth evaporated. Some who had borrowed or used student loan refunds to invest lost everything.

Online forums chronicled not only the financial losses but also the psychological fallout—stories of panic, shame, and in some tragic cases, suicide. The new “digital gold rush” became another mechanism for transferring wealth upward.

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The Real Estate Wall
While digital markets rise and fall, real estate remains the ultimate symbol of exclusion. Home prices have climbed over 40 percent since 2020, while mortgage rates hover near 8 percent. For most of Gen Z, ownership is out of reach.

Older generations built equity through housing; Gen Z rents indefinitely, enriching landlords and institutional investors. Without intergenerational help, the “starter home” has become a myth. In America’s new class order, those who inherit property inherit mobility.

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Despair and the Silent Crisis
Behind the data lies a mental health emergency. The CDC reports that suicide among Americans aged 10–24 has risen nearly 60 percent in the past decade. Economic precarity, debt, housing insecurity, and climate anxiety all contribute.

Therapists describe “financial trauma” as a defining condition for Gen Z—chronic anxiety rooted in systemic instability. Universities respond with mindfulness workshops, but few confront the deeper issue: a society that privatized risk and monetized hope.

They say in Harlan County,
There are no neutrals there—
Which side are you on, my people,
Which side are you on?

The question lingers like a challenge to policymakers, educators, and investors alike.

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A Two-Tier Future
Today’s economy is splitting into two distinct realities:

• The secure class, buffered by family wealth, education, AI-driven income, and real estate assets.

• The precarious class, burdened by loans, high rents, unstable work, and psychological strain.

The supposed democratization of opportunity through technology and education has in practice entrenched a new feudalism—one coded in algorithms and contracts instead of coal and steel.

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Repairing the System, Not the Student
For Generation Z, the American Dream has become a high-interest loan. Education, technology, and financial innovation—once tools of liberation—now function as instruments of control.

Reforming higher education is necessary, but not sufficient. The deeper work lies in redistributing power: capping predatory interest rates, investing in affordable housing, curbing speculative bubbles, ensuring that AI’s gains benefit labor as well as capital, and confronting the mental health crisis that shadows all of it.

Florence Reece’s song endures because its question has never been answered—only updated. As Gen Z stands at the intersection of debt and digital capitalism, that question rings louder than ever:

Which side are you on?

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Sources

• Florence Reece, “Which Side Are You On?” (1931).

• Pew Research Center, “First-Generation College Graduates Lag Behind Their Peers on Key Economic Outcomes,” 2021.

• Dēmos, The Debt Divide: How Student Debt Impacts Opportunities for Black and White Borrowers, 2016.

• EducationData.org, “Student Loan Debt by Generation,” 2024.

• Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis, Gen Z Student Debt and Wealth Data Brief, 2022.

• CNBC, “Gen Z vs. Their Parents: How the Generations Stack Up Financially,” 2024.

• WUSF, “Generation Z’s Net Worth Is Being Undercut by College Debt,” 2024.

• Newsweek, “Student Loan Update: Gen Z Hit with Highest Payments,” 2024.

• The Kaplan Group, “How Student Debt Is Locking Millennials and Gen Z Out of Homeownership,” 2024.

• CDC, Suicide Mortality in the United States, 2001–2022, National Center for Health Statistics, 2023.

• Brookings Institution, “The Impact of AI on Labor Markets: Inequality and Automation,” 2024.

• CNBC, “Crypto Crash Wipes Out Billions in Investor Wealth, Gen Z Most Exposed,” 2023.

• Zillow, “U.S. Housing Affordability Reaches Lowest Point Since 1989,” 2024.

Should Elites Get Bailed Out Again?

In 1929, when the stock market crashed, millions of Americans were plunged into unemployment, hunger, and despair. Yet the elites of Wall Street—whose reckless speculation fueled the disaster—often landed softly. By 1933, as the Great Depression deepened, nearly a quarter of the U.S. workforce was unemployed, thousands of banks had failed, and working families bore the brunt of the collapse. Ordinary people endured soup lines, Dust Bowl migration, and generational poverty. The government of Franklin D. Roosevelt eventually stepped in with reforms and safeguards like the FDIC and Glass-Steagall, but not before working-class Americans had paid the heaviest price.

Fast forward to 2008, when the global financial system once again teetered on collapse. This time, instead of letting the failures run their course, the U.S. government rushed to bail out Wall Street banks, auto manufacturers, and other corporate giants deemed “too big to fail.” Banks survived, CEOs kept their bonuses, and investors were shielded. Meanwhile, millions of working-class families lost their homes, jobs, and savings. Student loan borrowers, particularly those from working-class and minority backgrounds, never got a bailout. Adjunct faculty, contract workers, and gig laborers were left to navigate economic insecurity without systemic relief.

The pandemic brought the same story in a new form. Corporate bailouts, Federal Reserve interventions, and stimulus packages stabilized markets far more effectively than they stabilized households. Wall Street bounced back faster than Main Street. By 2021, the wealth of America’s billionaires had surged by more than $1.8 trillion, while ordinary workers struggled with eviction threats, childcare crises, and medical debt.

But the stakes are even higher today. U.S. elites are not only repeating past mistakes—they are doubling down on mass speculation across Artificial Intelligence, crypto, real estate, and equity markets. The rise and collapse of speculative cryptocurrencies revealed how wealth can be created and destroyed almost overnight, with everyday investors bearing the losses while venture capitalists and insiders cashed out early. Real estate speculation has driven housing prices beyond the reach of millions of working families, fueling homelessness and displacement. Equity markets, inflated by cheap debt and stock buybacks, have become disconnected from the real economy, rewarding executives while leaving workers behind.

This speculative frenzy is not just an economic issue—it is an environmental one. Artificial Intelligence requires enormous data farms that use lots of energy.  Fossil fuel corporations and their financiers continue to reap profits from industries that accelerate climate change, deforestation, and resource depletion. The destruction of ecosystems, the intensification of climate disasters, and the burden of environmental cleanup all fall disproportionately on working-class and marginalized communities. Yet when markets wobble, it is these same polluting elites who position themselves first in line for government protection.

The Federal Reserve has played a decisive role in this cycle. By keeping interest rates artificially low for years, it fueled debt-driven speculation in housing, equities, and corporate borrowing. When inflation spiked, the Fed shifted gears, raising rates at the fastest pace in decades. This brought pain to households through higher mortgage costs, rising credit card balances, and job insecurity—but banks and investment firms continued to receive lifelines through emergency lending facilities. The Fed’s interventions have too often prioritized elite stability over working-class survival.

Political leadership has compounded the problem. Under Donald Trump's first term, deregulation accelerated, with key provisions of the Dodd-Frank Act rolled back in 2018. Banks gained greater leeway to take risks, and oversight of mid-sized institutions weakened—a decision that later contributed to the collapse of Silicon Valley Bank in 2023. Trump’s tax cuts overwhelmingly favored corporations and the wealthy, further concentrating wealth at the top while leaving the federal government less able to respond to future crises. In his second term, Trump and his allies signal that they would pressure the Fed to prioritize markets over workers and strip down remaining regulatory guardrails.

The logic of endless bailouts assumes that the survival of elites ensures the survival of the economy. But history proves otherwise. Whether in 1929, 2008, or 2020, the repeated subsidization of corporations and financial elites entrenches inequality, fuels reckless risk-taking, and leaves working families with the bill. The banks, crypto funds, and private equity firms that profit most during boom times rarely share their gains, yet they demand protection in busts.

And the problem is no longer just domestic—it is geopolitical. While U.S. elites depend on bailouts, rival powers are recalibrating. China is building alternative banking systems through the Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank and the Belt and Road Initiative. Russia, sanctioned by the West, is tightening its economic ties with China and other non-Western states. India and Brazil, key players in the BRICS bloc, are exploring alternatives to U.S. dollar dominance. If the U.S. continues to subsidize private failure with public money, it risks undermining its own global credibility and ceding economic leadership to rivals.

National security is directly tied to economic and environmental stability. A U.S. that repeatedly bails out elites while leaving ordinary citizens vulnerable erodes trust not only at home but abroad. Allies may question American leadership, while adversaries see opportunity in its fragility. If the U.S. financial system is perceived as permanently rigged—propping up elites while disempowering its workforce—it will accelerate the shift of global influence toward China, Russia, India, and Brazil.

Perhaps it’s time to let the system fail—not in the sense of mass suffering for ordinary people, but in the sense of refusing to cushion elites from the consequences of their own decisions. If banks gamble recklessly, let them face bankruptcy. If private equity firms strip-mine industries, let them collapse under their own weight. If universities chase speculative growth with predatory lending and overpriced credentials, let them answer for it in the courts of law and public opinion.

Failure, though painful, can also be cleansing. Without bailouts, institutions would be forced to reckon with structural flaws instead of papering them over. Alternatives could emerge: community-based credit unions, worker-owned cooperatives, public higher education funded for the public good rather than private profit, and serious investment in green energy and sustainable development.

The real question is not whether elites deserve another bailout. The real question is whether the United States can afford to keep subsidizing them while undermining its working class, its environment, and its national security. For too long, workers, students, and families have shouldered the costs of elite failure. The survival of the U.S. economy—and its place in the world—may depend not on saving elites, but on building something stronger and fairer in their place.

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Sources:

• Congressional Budget Office, The 2008 Financial Crisis and Federal Response

• Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation, Bank Failures During the Great Depression

• Institute for Policy Studies, Billionaire Wealth Surge During COVID-19

• Federal Reserve, Monetary Policy and Emergency Lending Facilities

• Brookings Institution, Bailouts and Moral Hazard

• BRICS Policy Center, Alternative Financial Governance Structures

• Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), Climate Change 2023 Synthesis Report

• National Association of Realtors, Housing Affordability Data

• Public Law 115-174, Economic Growth, Regulatory Relief, and Consumer Protection Act (2018)

Troubled Future: Data Centers, Crypto, and EPA Downsizing

The environmental costs of digital infrastructure and financial speculation are rising rapidly, while federal oversight remains inconsistent and under-resourced. Data centers and cryptocurrency mining now consume vast amounts of electricity and water across the United States, yet much of this resource use is poorly tracked or omitted from public emissions reporting. At the same time, the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency has seen significant staffing losses, rule reversals, and new threats to its institutional survival.

These trends are not isolated. Together, they reflect a shift toward energy-intensive technologies, deregulation of high-polluting industries, and a weakened capacity to respond to environmental harm. The long-term consequences will be difficult to reverse.

The Energy and Water Demands of Data Centers

Data centers are expanding to meet demand for cloud computing, artificial intelligence, and digital storage. These facilities rely heavily on continuous electricity and water for cooling. Some consume millions of gallons of water per day, and projections show their electricity use may double in the next few years. Many are located in areas already under water stress.

The environmental impact of data centers goes beyond their daily operations. Construction materials, server manufacturing, and on-site diesel backup generators all contribute to greenhouse gas emissions. Yet these emissions are often excluded from formal greenhouse gas inventories, especially when they occur outside the facility’s geographic or corporate boundaries.

Crypto Mining as an Unregulated Energy Sector

Cryptocurrency mining, especially Bitcoin, requires massive computing power. These operations have migrated to U.S. states with low energy prices and minimal regulatory oversight. Bitcoin mining alone now consumes more electricity annually than many countries.

The emissions from crypto mining are significant, but they are not consistently tracked. Facilities often operate below emissions reporting thresholds or through decentralized networks that fall outside EPA scrutiny. In many cases, power is sourced from fossil fuels, and companies are not required to disclose their energy mix or carbon footprint.

Residents living near crypto facilities have reported noise, pollution, and local grid strain. Yet enforcement is limited or nonexistent in most jurisdictions.

The Shrinking Capacity of the EPA

The Environmental Protection Agency has lost hundreds of experienced staff since 2017, including scientists and enforcement personnel. Budget cuts, political pressure, and legal constraints have made it difficult for the agency to maintain oversight of fast-growing industries like digital infrastructure and blockchain technology.

Many environmental rules were rolled back between 2017 and 2020, increasing overall emissions and reducing safeguards for air and water. Although some regulations have been restored, the agency remains under political threat. Proposals to reorganize or dismantle the EPA altogether have resurfaced, potentially removing the last federal layer of accountability in many regions.

Greenhouse gas reporting systems still rely heavily on corporate self-reporting. Emerging sectors such as AI, crypto, and hyperscale data storage are not fully integrated into federal carbon inventories, and indirect emissions—such as those from supply chains and off-site electricity generation—are often omitted entirely.

A Delayed and Unequal Cost

The consequences of these developments will accumulate slowly but with increasing severity. Emissions released today will remain in the atmosphere for decades. Water used to cool servers will not be available to communities experiencing drought or contamination.

Those who profit from these trends—tech corporations, crypto investors, and political donors—will not be the ones facing the costs. The burden will fall on future generations, frontline communities, and the global South.

Institutions of higher education, many of which depend on cloud platforms, server farms, and AI applications, are deeply connected to this digital growth. They also have an opportunity—and arguably a responsibility—to examine the long-term impacts of these systems and hold corporate partners accountable.

Technological advancement has material consequences. The energy and water behind our digital lives are not virtual, and the lack of environmental regulation only increases the harm. Without accurate measurement and stronger enforcement, damage will continue without acknowledgement—and without remedy.

Sources
International Energy Agency, Electricity 2024
U.S. Department of Energy, Quadrennial Technology Review, 2023
Ma, J. et al., “The Water Footprint of Data Centers,” Nature Communications, 2023
Cambridge Bitcoin Electricity Consumption Index, 2023
White House Office of Science and Technology Policy, Crypto-Assets Report, 2022
U.S. Environmental Protection Agency, Inventory of U.S. Greenhouse Gas Emissions and Sinks, 2024
Government Accountability Office, EPA Workforce Report, 2021
Brookings Institution, Deregulation Tracker, 2020
Greenpeace USA, Poisoned by Pollution: Crypto Mining’s Environmental Toll, 2022
ProPublica, The Real Cost of the Cloud, 2023

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

When Technology Can’t Outrun Environmental Collapse: The High Cost of Crypto and Other Energy-Hungry Innovations

There is a persistent narrative that technology will save humanity from the mounting environmental crises—climate change, resource depletion, and pollution—that threaten the planet. From clean energy breakthroughs to smart agriculture, the promise is that innovation will outpace destruction. But this optimism overlooks a harsh reality: many of today’s most advanced technologies, especially those that consume vast amounts of energy like cryptocurrencies, exacerbate environmental harm instead of reducing it. The earth’s ecological limits are too strict and immediate for technology alone to fix.

A key factor missing from many discussions is the concept of externalities—costs or damages that are not reflected in the market price of goods or services. Both economic and environmental externalities mean that the true price of technologies is often hidden from consumers, producers, and policymakers alike. When a technology harms the environment but doesn’t pay for that damage, the costs are effectively “externalized” to society and future generations.

Cryptocurrency Mining: An Externality Nightmare

Take cryptocurrency mining, especially Bitcoin, as a striking example. Bitcoin’s “proof of work” system demands enormous computing power, consuming electricity on the scale of entire countries such as Argentina or the Netherlands. However, the market price of Bitcoin does not include the environmental cost of that energy use—carbon emissions, air pollution, and water resource depletion are externalities borne by the planet, not the miners or investors.

Many crypto mining operations cluster in regions with cheap, carbon-intensive electricity. The associated greenhouse gas emissions accelerate climate change, but these environmental costs remain unaccounted for in economic transactions. Similarly, the rapid turnover of specialized mining hardware produces vast amounts of electronic waste that is seldom recycled properly, leaking toxins into ecosystems. These negative externalities are seldom reflected in the price of cryptocurrencies or factored into regulatory frameworks.

Other Technologies and Their Hidden Costs

It’s not only crypto. Artificial intelligence training requires massive computational resources that consume significant electricity, often generated by fossil fuels. Streaming services, cloud data centers, and the explosion of connected devices—collectively the “Internet of Things”—demand continuous power, driving emissions that are not typically included in consumer bills or corporate balance sheets.

The production of smartphones, laptops, and other electronics relies on mining scarce and environmentally damaging materials like lithium, cobalt, and rare earth elements. The social and ecological externalities here include habitat destruction, water pollution, and labor exploitation in vulnerable communities.

Even as companies promote efficiency gains, the rebound effect—where increased efficiency lowers costs and leads to increased consumption—means that total resource use continues to grow, magnifying external environmental harm.

Why Externalities Matter

Externalities are a core reason why technological innovation alone cannot save the environment. Without mechanisms to internalize these costs—through regulations, taxes, or market reforms—businesses and consumers have little incentive to change behavior. Technologies that appear profitable on paper may, in reality, impose devastating costs on ecosystems, human health, and climate stability.

Economic externalities can also distort investment priorities, leading to overinvestment in high-energy, resource-intensive technologies while underfunding sustainable alternatives that carry less hidden damage.

Toward a Holistic Solution

Addressing environmental destruction demands recognizing and correcting these externalities. Policies that tax carbon emissions, regulate electronic waste, and require transparency in supply chains can help internalize the true costs of technologies. Public awareness and ethical consumer choices also play a role in pressuring companies and governments.

Higher education institutions must contribute by researching externalities associated with emerging technologies and educating future leaders about sustainability challenges. Only by confronting the real costs behind innovation can society make wiser choices.

The Tech Future 

Technology is neither a guaranteed savior nor an inherent villain. It reflects the values and systems that shape its creation and deployment. Without reckoning with economic and environmental externalities, technological advances risk deepening rather than alleviating ecological crises. A sustainable future requires systemic change that prioritizes ecological limits and social justice—not just faster chips and smarter algorithms.

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Sources:

• University of Cambridge Bitcoin Electricity Consumption Index (2025)

• Strubell, Emma, et al. “Energy and Policy Considerations for Deep Learning in NLP.” ACL 2019

• Carlson, Shawn. “Bitcoin’s Energy Consumption Is a Problem—But It’s Not the Whole Problem.” Scientific American, 2022

• International Energy Agency (IEA). “Data Centres and Data Transmission Networks,” 2023

• Ghisellini, Patrizia, et al. “Environmental Sustainability of Rare Earth Elements: A Review.” Journal of Cleaner Production, 2024

• The Shift Project. “Lean ICT: Towards Digital Sobriety,” 2019

• Pigou, Arthur C. The Economics of Welfare (1920) — foundational theory on externalities

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sources:

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

Trump’s March Backward

The United States is witnessing an alarming shift in the balance of power. Recent actions by the Supreme Court and Congress have effectively cleared the way for President Donald Trump to exercise authority in ways critics say resemble authoritarian rule.

Central to this shift is the Supreme Court’s decision on July 8, 2025, to allow Trump’s mass federal layoffs to proceed. This ruling overturned a lower court’s injunction that had temporarily blocked the president’s executive order to slash tens of thousands of federal jobs. The layoffs target agencies including the Environmental Protection Agency, the Department of Education, and the Department of Health and Human Services, critical players in addressing climate change, public health, and education.

The court’s decision was unsigned and passed 8–1, with Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson dissenting. Her dissent warned that the ruling emboldens the president to exceed constitutional limits without proper checks.

Just weeks earlier, Congress passed what supporters called the “One Big Beautiful Bill,” a sweeping budget package that enshrined Trump-era tax cuts, eliminated taxes on tips and Social Security income, and drastically reduced funding for social safety net programs like Medicaid and SNAP. The bill also increased Pentagon spending by $125 billion. The legislation passed strictly along party lines, with no Democratic votes.

The atmosphere of intensifying executive authority was underscored on June 14, 2025, when Trump staged a large-scale military parade in Washington, D.C., reminiscent of displays typically seen in authoritarian regimes. The parade featured tanks, fighter jets, and thousands of troops marching through the capital, a spectacle widely criticized as an exercise in pageantry and a troubling signal of militarism. In response, spontaneous “No Kings” protests erupted nationwide, with demonstrators rejecting what they saw as the cultivation of a personality cult and warning against the erosion of democratic norms.

These domestic developments unfold against a backdrop of escalating global crises and geopolitical realignments. The Trump administration has maintained a confrontational stance toward China, imposing new tariffs that have intensified a growing economic cold war. This friction comes as the BRICS coalition — Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa — gains strength, seeking alternatives to the U.S.-dominated financial and diplomatic order.

Meanwhile, the U.S. continues to supply arms and financial support to Ukraine in its conflict with Russia, while simultaneously imposing inconsistent policies that weaken its international credibility, especially regarding the unresolved Palestinian conflict.

At home, the Trump administration’s deregulation of the cryptocurrency market has raised alarms. With minimal oversight, the growing crypto economy faces increased risks of fraud and instability, a symptom of the broader laissez-faire approach that favors corporate interests over public protections.

Adding to domestic turmoil, Trump has controversially pardoned dozens of individuals convicted for their roles in the January 6 Capitol insurrection, framing them as “political prisoners.” Many have ties to extremist groups, and Trump has proposed hiring preferences for them within the federal government’s newly created Department of Government Efficiency, which is leading the controversial federal workforce layoffs.

Legal experts and civil rights organizations argue these actions collectively undermine the constitutional principle of separation of powers. They say the administration’s use of executive orders and politically motivated pardons bypasses Congress and the courts, weakening democratic oversight.

Congress’s role has also been questioned. By passing the partisan budget bill without bipartisan support, critics argue lawmakers have effectively rubber-stamped an agenda that dismantles government functions, cuts vital social programs, and expands military spending.

The Supreme Court’s emergency ruling to lift the injunction against the layoffs further signals the judiciary’s retreat from its role as a check on executive power. By acting swiftly and without a full hearing, the court has allowed a significant reshaping of the federal workforce without thorough judicial review.

Together, these developments mark a troubling trend toward the concentration of power in the executive branch. Observers warn that if left unchecked, these actions could erode the foundations of American democracy and weaken its position in an increasingly multipolar world.

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Sources

San Francisco Chronicle, “Supreme Court clears way for Trump to resume mass federal layoffs” (July 8, 2025)
https://www.sfchronicle.com/politics/article/trump-mass-firings-20761715.php

Associated Press, “Trump signs sweeping tax, spending bill on July 4” (July 4, 2025)
https://apnews.com/article/3804df732e461a626fd8c2b43413c3f0

Politico, “House Republicans pass ‘One Big Beautiful Bill’ after weeks of division” (May 22, 2025)
https://www.politico.com/news/2025/05/22/house-republicans-pass-big-beautiful-bill-00364691

Business Insider, “Supreme Court rules in favor of Trump’s federal layoffs” (July 8, 2025)
https://www.businessinsider.com/supreme-court-ruling-trump-firings-federal-agencies-2025-7

Washington Post, “Trump begins mass commutations for Jan. 6 rioters, defends actions as ‘justice reform’” (March 1, 2025)
https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2025/03/01/trump-jan-6-pardons

Medicare Rights Center, “Final House vote looms on devastating health and food assistance cuts” (July 3, 2025)
https://www.medicarerights.org/medicare-watch/2025/07/03/final-house-vote-looms-on-devastating-health-and-food-assistance-cuts