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Sunday, December 21, 2025

Conspiracies, Influence, and Grief: The Candace Owens–Erika Kirk Controversy Through a Higher Education Lens

The September 2025 assassination of conservative activist Charlie Kirk sent shockwaves through the political and academic worlds. It also ignited a public feud between two figures whose influence stretches across campus activism and national media: Candace Owens, a former Turning Point USA (TPUSA) strategist turned media provocateur, and Erika Kirk, the widow of Charlie Kirk and newly appointed leader of TPUSA. The conflict exposes not only the personal and political stakes involved but also the broader dynamics of media influence, ideological factionalism, and the politics of grief in contemporary higher education.

Charlie Kirk: Architect of Campus Controversy

Charlie Kirk built his public persona on provocation and confrontation. He staged highly orchestrated debates on college campuses, often targeting liberal-leaning students with “Prove Me Wrong” events that were designed to go viral. Turning Point USA’s social media strategy amplified these conflicts, rewarding spectacle over substantive discussion. Kirk also courted controversy through statements on race and opportunity, claiming in interviews that a Black woman had “taken his slot” at West Point, and through his unabashed support of fossil fuels, rejecting many climate mitigation policies.

Under Kirk’s leadership, TPUSA expanded its influence with aggressive initiatives. The Professor Watchlist cataloged faculty allegedly promoting leftist propaganda, drawing condemnation from academic freedom advocates who argued it chilled open debate and exposed professors to harassment. In 2019, TPUSA, through its affiliated nonprofit Turning Point Action, acquired Students for Trump, integrating campus organizing with national political campaigns. These moves cemented Kirk’s reputation as a strategist who thrived on conflict, spectacle, and the orchestration of young conservative voices, setting the stage for the posthumous clashes between Owens and Erika Kirk.

Candace Owens: Insider Knowledge Meets Provocation

Candace Owens leveraged her experience as a TPUSA strategist into a national media presence. Her commentary is known for being provocative, frequently conspiratorial, and sometimes antisemitic. After Kirk’s death, Owens publicly questioned the official narrative, hinting that TPUSA leadership may have failed Kirk or been complicit. She amplified unverified reports, including accounts of suspicious aircraft near the crime scene, drawing criticism for exploiting tragedy for attention. Owens’ stature as a former insider gave her claims credibility in some circles, but her approach exemplifies the hazards of insider knowledge weaponized against organizations and individuals in moments of vulnerability.

Erika Kirk: Navigating Grief and Ideological Contradiction

Erika Kirk’s public response has been markedly different. As TPUSA’s new CEO and widow of its co-founder, she emphasized factual communication, transparency, and respect for grieving families. Yet her messaging presents a striking tension. She has publicly urged women to “stay at home and have children,” even as she leads a major national organization herself. This contradiction highlights the challenges faced by leaders whose personal actions do not neatly align with ideological prescriptions, especially within high-profile, media-saturated contexts.

Erika Kirk’s stance against conspiracy and misinformation underscores the responsibilities of institutional leadership in politically charged environments. By rejecting Owens’ speculation and emphasizing ethical communication, she models crisis management that prioritizes credibility and accountability, even as ideological tensions complicate her public image.

The Groypers: External Pressure on Campus Politics

The feud did not remain internal. The Groypers, a far-right network led by Nick Fuentes, inserted themselves into the controversy, criticizing TPUSA for insufficient ideological purity and aligning with Owens’ confrontational rhetoric. Their intervention escalated tensions, highlighting how external actors can exploit internal disputes to influence narratives, polarize supporters, and pressure campus organizations. The Groypers’ involvement illustrates the precarious environment student-focused organizations face, where internal conflict can quickly become a battleground for external ideological agendas.

Media, Campus Power, and Ethical Considerations

The Owens–Kirk conflict exemplifies the challenges inherent in politically engaged campus organizations. Insider knowledge can confer authority, but it can also be leveraged in ways that destabilize institutions. Personal grief and tragedy can be amplified in the media, creating narratives that are part advocacy, part spectacle. Organizations like TPUSA, with expansive networks, high-profile donors, and initiatives such as the Professor Watchlist and Students for Trump, are uniquely vulnerable to reputational damage and internal discord. Kirk’s legacy of confrontation and spectacle created fertile ground for sensationalism, factionalism, and opportunistic interventions by groups such as the Groypers.

Toward Responsible Leadership

The feud offers a cautionary lesson for student-focused political organizations and higher education at large. While former insiders may provide valuable insight, amplification of unverified claims can destabilize leadership, undermine institutional credibility, and warp student engagement. Erika Kirk’s insistence on restraint, transparency, and fact-based discourse demonstrates the importance of ethical leadership, media literacy, and principled decision-making in sustaining credible campus organizations.

Entangled Worlds as Spectacle  

The conflict between Candace Owens and Erika Kirk is more than a personal dispute. It reflects the entangled worlds of media influence, ideological factionalism, and institutional accountability in higher education. For observers, the episode offers a vivid study of how grief, ideology, and spectacle collide, and how effective leadership must navigate these pressures with clarity, ethical judgment, and a steady commitment to institutional integrity.


Sources

Candace Owens – Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Candace_Owens

Owens vs. Erika Kirk, AOL News: https://www.aol.com/news/candace-owens-strangely-accuses-erika-154928626.html

Erika Kirk public statements, WABC Radio: https://wabcradio.com/2025/12/11/erika-kirk-snaps-back-at-candace-owens

Megyn Kelly mediation reports, AOL: https://www.aol.com/articles/megyn-kelly-reveals-she-helped-220748120.html

Charlie Kirk career and assassination, UPI: https://www.upi.com/Voices/2025/09/11/charlie-kirk-activist-fatal-shooting/5321757598392

Conflict-driven persona, Washington Post: https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2025/09/10/charlie-kirk-dead/

Campus engagement and media amplification, PBS: https://www.pbs.org/newshour/politics/charlie-kirk-dead-at-31-trump-says

Charlie Kirk’s statements on race and West Point, Washington Post: https://www.washingtonpost.com/politics/2025/09/13/charlie-kirk-turning-point-politics-debates

Professor Watchlist – Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Turning_Point_USA

Students for Trump acquisition, Charlie Kirk – Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlie_Kirk

Groypers intervention, Nick Fuentes – Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nick_Fuentes

Wednesday, December 3, 2025

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.


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

Thursday, November 13, 2025

The College Meltdown Index: Profiting from the Wreckage of American Higher Education


“Education, once defended as a public good, now functions as a vehicle for private gain.”


From Collapse to Contagion

The College Meltdown never truly ended—it evolved.

After a decade of spectacular for-profit implosions, the higher education sector has reconstituted itself around new instruments of profit: debt servicing, edtech speculation, and corporate “partnerships” that disguise privatization as innovation.

The College Meltdown Index—tracking a mix of education providers, servicers, and learning platforms—reveals a sector in quiet decay.

Legacy for-profits like National American University (NAUH) and Aspen Group (ASPU) trade at penny-stock levels, while Lincoln Educational (LINC) and Perdoceo (PRDO) stumble through cost-cutting cycles.

Even the supposed disruptors—Chegg (CHGG), Udemy (UDMY), and Coursera (COUR)—are faltering as user growth plateaus and AI reshapes their value proposition.

Meanwhile, SoFi (SOFI), Sallie Mae (SLM), and Maximus (MMS) thrive—not through learning, but through the management of debt.


The Meltdown Graveyard

Below lies a sampling of the education sector’s ghost tickers—the silent casualties of a system that turned public trust into private loss.

SymbolInstitutionStatusApprox. Closure/Delisting
CLAS.UClass TechnologiesDefunct2024
INSTInstructure (pre-acquisition)Acquired by Thoma Bravo2020
TWOUQ2U, Inc.Bankrupt2025
CPLACapella UniversityMerged with Strayer (Strategic Ed.)2018
ESI-OLDITT Technical InstituteDefunct2016
EDMCEducation Management CorporationDefunct2018
COCO-OLDCorinthian CollegesDefunct2015
APOLApollo Education Group (U. of Phoenix)Taken Private2017

Each ticker represents not only a failed business model—but a generation of indebted students.


The Phoenix That Shouldn’t Have Risen

No institution better symbolizes this moral decay than the University of Phoenix and Phoenix Education Partners (PXED).

At its height, Phoenix enrolled nearly half a million students. By 2017, following federal investigations and mass defaults, Apollo Education Group—its parent company—collapsed under scrutiny.

But rather than disappearing, Phoenix was quietly resurrected through a private equity buyout led by Apollo Global Management, Vistria Group, and Najafi Companies.

Freed from public oversight, the university continued to enroll vulnerable adult learners, harvesting federal aid while shedding accountability.

In 2023, the University of Idaho’s proposed acquisition of Phoenix provoked national outrage, forcing state officials to confront a basic question: Should a public university absorb a for-profit brand built on exploitation?

The deal collapsed—but the temptation to monetize Phoenix’s infrastructure remains. In 2025, a small portion became publicly traded.  Its call centers and online systems remain models of enrollment efficiency, designed to extract just enough engagement to secure tuition payments.


From Education to Extraction

The sector’s transformation reveals a deeper moral hazard.

If students succeed, investors profit.
If students fail, federal subsidies and servicer contracts ensure the money keeps flowing.

Executives face no downside. Shareholders are protected. The losses fall on students and taxpayers.

In this sense, the “meltdown” is not a market failure—it’s a market design.

“The winners are those who most efficiently extract value from hope.”

Public universities increasingly partner with private Online Program Managers (OPMs), leasing their brands to companies that control marketing, pricing, and student data. The once-clear line between public and for-profit education has blurred beyond recognition.


The Quiet Winners of Collapse

A few companies continue to prosper by aligning with “practical” or “mission-safe” sectors:

  • Adtalem (ATGE) in nursing and health education,

  • Grand Canyon Education (LOPE) in faith-branded online degrees,

  • Bright Horizons (BFAM) in corporate childcare and workforce training.

Yet all remain heavily dependent on public dollars and tax incentives. The state subsidizes their existence; the market collects the rewards.

Meanwhile, 2U’s bankruptcy leaves elite universities scrambling to explain how a publicly traded OPM, once championed as the future of online learning, could disintegrate overnight—taking with it a network of high-priced “nonprofit” certificate programs.


A Reckoning Deferred

The College Meltdown Index exposes a system that has internalized its own failures.
Fraud has been replaced by financial engineering, transparency by outsourcing, and accountability by spin.

The real collapse is not in the market—but in moral logic. Education, once the cornerstone of social mobility, has become a speculative instrument traded between hedge funds and holding companies.

Until policymakers—and universities themselves—confront the ethics of profit in higher education, the meltdown will persist, slowly consuming what remains of the public good.


“The real question is not whether the system will collapse, but who will rebuild it—and for whom.”


Sources:

  • Higher Education Inquirer, College Meltdown 2.0 Index (Nov. 2025)

  • SEC Filings (2010–2025)

  • U.S. Department of Education, Heightened Cash Monitoring Reports

  • An American Sickness – Elisabeth Rosenthal

  • The Goosestep – Upton Sinclair

  • Medical Apartheid – Harriet A. Washington

  • Body and Soul – Alondra Nelson

  • The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks – Rebecca Skloot

Monday, October 27, 2025

The College Meltdown: A Retrospective

[In 2017, we collaborated with Crush the Street on a video describing the College Meltdown.]  

“Education is not merely a credentialing system; it is a humanizing act that fosters connection, purpose, and community.”


Origins

The College Meltdown began in the mid-2010s as a blog chronicling the slow collapse of U.S. higher education. Rising tuition, mounting student debt, and corporatization were visible signs, but the deeper crisis was structural: the erosion of public accountability and mission.

By 2015, the warning signs were unmistakable to us. On some campuses, student spaces were closed to host corporate “best practices” conferences. At many schools, adjunct instructors carried the bulk of teaching responsibilities, often without benefits, while administrators celebrated innovation. Higher education was quietly being reshaped to benefit corporations over students and communities — a true meltdown.


Patterns of the Meltdown

Enrollment in U.S. colleges began declining as early as 2011, reflecting broader demographic shifts: fewer children entering the system and a growing population of older adults. Small colleges, community colleges, and regional public universities were hardest hit, while flagship institutions consolidated wealth and prestige.

Corporate intermediaries known as Online Program Managers (OPMs) managed recruitment, marketing, and course design, taking large portions of tuition while universities retained risk. Fully automated robocolleges emerged, relying on AI-driven templates, predictive analytics, and outsourced grading. While efficient, these systems dehumanized education: students became data points, faculty became monitors, and mentorship disappeared.

“Robocolleges and AI-driven systems reduce humans to data points — an education stripped of connection is no education at all.”


Feeding the AI Beast

As part of our effort to reclaim knowledge and influence public discourse, we actively contributed to Wikipedia. Over the years, we made more than 12,000 edits on higher education topics, ensuring accurate documentation of predatory practices, adjunct labor, OPMs, and corporatization. These edits both informed the public and, inadvertently, fed the AI beast — large language models and AI systems that scrape Wikipedia for training data now reflect our work, amplifying it in ways we could never have predicted.

“By documenting higher education rigorously, we shaped both public knowledge and the datasets powering AI systems — turning transparency into a tool of influence.”


Anxiety, Anomie, and Alienation

The College Meltdown documented the mental health toll of these transformations. Rising anxiety, feelings of anomie, and widespread alienation were linked to AI reliance, dehumanized classrooms, insecure faculty labor, and societal pressures. Students felt like credential seekers; faculty suffered burnout.

“Addressing the psychological and social effects of dehumanized education is essential for ethical recovery.”


Trump, Anti-Intellectualism, and Fear in the Era of Neoliberalism

The project also addressed the broader political and social climate. The Trump era brought rising anti-intellectualism, skepticism toward expertise, and a celebration of market logic over civic and moral education. For many, it was an era of fear: fear of surveillance, fear of litigation, fear of being marginalized in a rapidly corporatized, AI-driven educational system. Neoliberal policies exacerbated these pressures, emphasizing privatization, metrics, and competition over community and care.

“Living under Trump-era neoliberalism, with AI monitoring, corporate oversight, and mass surveillance, education became a space of anxiety as much as learning.”


Quality of Life and the Call for Rehumanization

Education should serve human well-being, not just revenue. The blog emphasized Quality of Life and advocated for Rehumanization — restoring mentorship, personal connection, and ethical engagement.

“Rehumanization is not a luxury; it is the foundation of meaningful learning.”


FOIA Requests and Whistleblowers

From the start, The College Meltdown relied on evidence-based reporting. FOIA (Freedom of Information Act) requests were used to obtain internal communications, budgets, and regulatory filings, shining light on opaque practices. Whistleblowers, including adjunct faculty and staff at universities and OPMs, provided firsthand testimony of misconduct, financial malfeasance, and educational dehumanization. Their courage was central to the project’s mission of transparency and accountability.

“Insider testimony and public records revealed the hidden forces reshaping higher education, from corporate influence to predatory practices.”


Historical Sociology: Understanding the Systemic Collapse

The importance of historical sociology cannot be overstated in analyzing the decline of higher education. By examining the evolution of educational systems, we can identify patterns of inequality, the concentration of power, and the commodification of knowledge. Historical sociology provides the tools to understand how past decisions and structures have led to the current crisis.

“Historical sociology reveals, defines, and formulates patterns of social development, helping us understand the systemic forces at play in education.”


Naming Bad Actors: Accountability and Reform

A critical aspect of The College Meltdown was the emphasis on naming bad actors — identifying and holding accountable those responsible for the exploitation and degradation of higher education. This included:

  • University Administrators: Prioritizing profit over pedagogy.

  • Corporate Entities: Robocolleges and OPMs profiting at the expense of educational quality.

  • Political Figures and Ultraconservatives: Promoting policies that undermined public education and anti-intellectualism.

“Holding bad actors accountable is essential for meaningful reform and the restoration of education's ethical purpose.”


[In 2016, we called out several bad actors in for-profit higher education, including CEOs Jack Massimino, Kevin Modany, and Todd Nelson.] 

Existential Aspects of Climate Change

The blog also examined the existential dimensions of climate change. Students and faculty face a dual challenge: preparing for uncertain futures while witnessing environmental degradation accelerate. Higher education itself is implicated, both as a contributor through consumption and as a forum for solutions. The looming climate crisis intensifies anxiety, alienation, and the urgency for ethical, human-centered education.

“Climate change makes the stakes of education existential: our survival, our knowledge, and our moral responsibility are intertwined.”


Mass Speculation and Financialization

Another critical theme explored was mass speculation and financialization. The expansion of student debt markets, tuition-backed bonds, and corporate investments in higher education transformed students into financial instruments. These speculative dynamics mirrored broader economic instability, creating both a moral and systemic crisis for the educational sector.

“When education becomes a commodity for speculation, learning, mentorship, and ethical development are subordinated to profit and risk metrics.”


Coverage of Protests and Nonviolent Resistance

The College Meltdown documented student and faculty resistance: tuition protests, adjunct labor actions, and campaigns against predatory OPM arrangements. Nonviolent action was central: teach-ins, sit-ins, and organized campaigns demonstrated moral authority and communal solidarity in the face of systemic pressures, litigation, and corporate intimidation.


Collaboration and Resistance

Glen McGhee provided exceptional guidance, connecting insights on systemic collapse, inequality, and credential inflation. Guest authors contributed across disciplines and movements, making the blog a living archive of accountability and solidarity:

Guest Contributors:
Bryan Alexander, Ann Bowers, James Michael Brodie, Randall Collins, Garrett Fitzgerald, Erica Gallagher, Henry Giroux, David Halperin, Bill Harrington, Phil Hill, Robert Jensen, Hank Kalet, Neil Kraus, the LACCD Whistleblower, Wendy Lynne Lee, Annelise Orleck, Robert Kelchen, Debbi Potts, Jack Metzger, Derek Newton, Gary Roth, Mark Salisbury, Gary Stocker, Harry Targ, Heidi Weber, Richard Wolff, and Helena Worthen.


Lessons from the Meltdown

The crisis was systemic. Technology amplified inequality. Corporate higher education rebranded rather than reformed. Adjunctification and labor precarity became normalized. Communities of color and working-class students suffered disproportionately.

Dehumanization emerged as a central theme. AI, automation, and robocolleges prioritized efficiency over mentorship, data over dialogue, and systems over human relationships. Rising anxiety, anomie, and alienation reflected the human toll.

“Rehumanization, mentorship, community, transparency, ethical accountability, and ecological awareness are essential to restore meaningful higher education.”


Looking Forward

As higher education entered the Trump era, its future remained uncertain. Students, faculty, and communities faced fear under neoliberal policies, AI-driven monitoring, mass surveillance, litigation pressures, ultraconservative influence, climate crises, and financial speculation. Will universities reclaim their role as public goods, or continue as commodified services? The College Meltdown stands as a testament to those who resisted dehumanization and anti-intellectualism. It also calls for Quality of Life, ethical practice, mental well-being, environmental responsibility, and Rehumanization, ensuring education serves the whole person, not just the bottom line. 


Sources and References

  • Washington, Harriet A. Medical Apartheid. Doubleday, 2006.

  • Rosenthal, Elisabeth. An American Sickness. Penguin, 2017.

  • Skloot, Rebecca. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. Crown, 2010.

  • Nelson, Alondra. Body and Soul. University of Minnesota Press, 2011.

  • Paucek, Chip. “2U and the Growth of OPMs.” EdSurge, 2021. link

  • Ravitch, Diane. The Death and Life of the Great American School System. Basic Books, 2010.

  • Alexander, Bryan. Academia Next. Johns Hopkins University Press, 2020.

  • U.S. Department of Education. “Closed School Information.” 2016–2020. link

  • Federal Reserve Bank of New York. Student Debt Statistics, 2024. link

  • Wayback Machine Archive of College Meltdown Blog: link

Thursday, September 18, 2025

Buyer Beware: Why All Schools and Majors Carry Risk — and Why HBCUs Deserve Better

For decades, American students have been told that higher education is the surest ticket to success. Families invest years of savings—or mountains of debt—into a degree, believing it will guarantee upward mobility. But the reality of U.S. higher education in 2025 is far more complex and far less secure. Buyer beware applies not only to shady for-profits or obscure degree programs, but to all schools and all majors.

And within this uneven playing field, Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) face a double bind: undervalued by mainstream rankings and underfunded by the very systems that claim to promote equity.

The Myth of the Golden Ticket

The dominant narrative says: “Go to college, pick the right major, and you’ll be fine.” Politicians repeat it. Universities market it. Parents cling to it. But the promise of a guaranteed return on investment has eroded.

  • Student loan debt now exceeds $1.7 trillion.

  • Nearly 40% of college graduates work in jobs that don’t require a degree, according to the Federal Reserve.

  • Wages for many majors have stagnated, while housing, healthcare, and childcare costs soar.

Even high-demand majors like computer science or nursing come with risks: market saturation, burnout, and outsourcing.

No School Is Immune

Elite schools tout prestige, but that does not insulate graduates from financial stress. Many Ivy League students leave with heavy debt burdens, particularly those without family wealth. Alumni networks can open doors, but they cannot protect against systemic shocks like housing bubbles, pandemics, or global financial crises.

Regional public universities and community colleges provide affordable pathways, but decades of state disinvestment have left many underfunded. For-profits, meanwhile, continue to lure vulnerable students with aggressive marketing and dubious job-placement claims.

And HBCUs—often with smaller endowments and student populations that are more likely to be first-generation and lower-income—have been penalized by these very dynamics, despite their outsized impact.

Every Major Carries Risk

STEM fields are not immune to volatility. Tech layoffs in 2023–2024 showed that even software engineers can face sudden unemployment. Nursing and teaching, often called “recession-proof,” are plagued with overwork, poor pay, and high attrition.

Meanwhile, students in the arts, humanities, and social sciences face the stigma of “low ROI” degrees, even though their fields foster critical thinking, creativity, and civic engagement—the very qualities society desperately needs.

The truth is that all majors are shaped by larger economic forces—automation, globalization, financial speculation, climate disruption—that no individual student can control.

The HBCU Paradox

While all students must be cautious about the promises of higher ed, HBCUs offer something mainstream rankings often ignore: real impact in social mobility and professional pipelines.

  • According to the National Science Foundation, nearly 25% of African American graduates with STEM bachelor’s degrees earned them at HBCUs.

  • More than half of African American doctors and lawyers received their undergraduate degrees at HBCUs.

  • A 2021 Brookings study concluded that HBCUs are “engines of upward mobility,” moving low-income students into higher income brackets at rates equal to or exceeding elite institutions.

Yet, systems like U.S. News & World Report, Forbes, QS, and Times Higher Education continue to underrate HBCUs because their metrics reward institutional wealth and exclusivity, not educational value.

By contrast, Washington Monthly, which measures social mobility, research benefiting society, and community service, consistently ranks HBCUs higher. Their success under these fairer metrics demonstrates how skewed the mainstream rankings truly are.

What Prospective Students Should Ask

Whether applying to an Ivy League university, a regional public, a for-profit, or an HBCU, students should treat college as a major financial investment. That means asking hard questions:

  • What is the total cost of attendance after aid?

  • What percentage of graduates find full-time work in their field within two years?

  • What is the median debt load of graduates—and the median salary five and ten years after?

  • What percentage of students drop out before graduating?

  • How transparent is the school about these outcomes?

A System in Need of Reform

Ultimately, the “buyer beware” crisis in higher education is not about students making poor choices. It is about a system that pushes risk onto individuals while rewarding wealth and privilege.

HBCUs prove that institutions with fewer resources can deliver extraordinary results for students and society. But until rankings, funding formulas, and public policy recognize that value, students across the board will continue to shoulder the risks of a speculative credential market.

In today’s higher education economy, buyer beware applies to all schools and all majors—but students and society alike would be better served if we valued institutions, like HBCUs, that truly deliver on the promise of access and upward mobility.


Sources:

  • Federal Reserve Bank of New York (2023). Labor Market Outcomes of College Graduates.

  • Georgetown University Center on Education and the Workforce (2022). ROI of College Majors.

  • National Center for Education Statistics (2024). Student Loan Debt and Repayment.

  • Brookings Institution (2021). The Economic Mobility of Historically Black Colleges and Universities.

  • UNCF (2020). HBCUs Make America Strong: The Positive Economic Impact of Historically Black Colleges and Universities.

  • Washington Monthly (2024). National University Rankings.

  • National Science Foundation (2022). Women, Minorities, and Persons with Disabilities in Science and Engineering.

Tuesday, September 16, 2025

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.


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)

Saturday, September 13, 2025

Casino Colleges: How Higher Education Mirrors a Vegas-Style Economy

Higher education in the United States has become its own high-stakes game, where students—particularly those from working-class backgrounds—risk their futures on degrees that may never deliver the promised payoff. Like Las Vegas, the system thrives on speculation, scams, and extraction, creating a casino economy in which the house almost always wins.

The dynamics at play in universities mirror those of Las Vegas. Tuition fees have tripled over the last two decades, and in 2025, outstanding student loan debt in the U.S. exceeds $1.9 trillion, carried by over 45 million borrowers. For many graduates, the return on investment is uncertain: nearly 40% of college-educated workers report being in jobs they do not enjoy or that do not require a degree.

Las Vegas itself provides a cautionary tale. The city’s economy depends on high-risk speculation, from manipulated gaming odds to predatory pricing and real estate bubbles. Hospitality and gaming workers are trapped in precarious jobs, and tourists are increasingly voicing dissatisfaction with hidden fees and scams. The parallels with higher education are striking: both systems rely on extracting value from participants while minimizing risk for those in control.

Labor unrest in both arenas highlights the human cost. University adjuncts, graduate assistants, and service staff face low pay, unpredictable schedules, and limited benefits—even as administrators and shareholders reap the gains. Similarly, culinary and hospitality workers in Vegas struggle under similar dynamics, a reminder that exploitation scales across sectors.

Casino capitalism—the U.S. default—demonstrates that short-term profits often trump long-term stability. In higher education, the consequences include credential inflation, student debt crises, and a growing divide between those who can gamble successfully and those for whom the system is rigged. Just as Vegas may eventually face a tourist backlash, higher education risks a reckoning if working-class students continue to shoulder the losses of a speculative system.

In this economy, whether the stakes are on the strip or in the classroom, the house may always win—but only until the players refuse to play.


Sources

Saturday, August 16, 2025

Investor Frenzy and Higher Education: Why a P/E Ratio of 30 Matters Beyond Wall Street

The U.S. stock market is approaching a price-to-earnings (P/E) ratio of 30, a threshold that has historically signaled overvaluation and preceded major downturns, including the dot-com crash. For investors, this is cause for caution. For higher education, the implications are far more immediate and tangible.

Howard Marks, co-chairman of Oaktree Capital Management, warns that while the “Magnificent Seven” tech giants—Apple, Microsoft, Alphabet, Amazon, Meta Platforms, Nvidia, and Tesla—remain grounded in strong fundamentals, the broader market is overextended. The remaining S&P 500 companies average a P/E ratio of 22, well above historical norms and potentially driven more by speculative enthusiasm than solid economic performance. Similarly, Erik Gordon, a professor of financial markets and technology, cautions that the financial fallout from the current AI boom could exceed the damage of the early 2000s dot-com crash. He points to dramatic stock drops in firms like CoreWeave, which lost $24 billion in valuation in just two days, as evidence of the speculative excesses pervading the market.

These market dynamics have profound consequences for higher education. Many universities, particularly elite institutions, rely on endowment returns to fund scholarships, research programs, and faculty salaries. A sudden market correction could sharply reduce these funds, forcing universities to cut programs, delay research, or freeze hiring—decisions that directly affect students, faculty, and staff. Economic instability also threatens student loan repayment and could pressure universities to raise tuition, placing additional burdens on graduates already navigating high debt.

Furthermore, corporate influence on campus—through research funding, partnerships, and internship pipelines—becomes more precarious when heavily invested tech and AI companies are overvalued and vulnerable to downturns. Cuts in this funding can reduce research opportunities and career pathways for students. Beyond the campus, economic shocks disproportionately impact lower-income and marginalized students, adjunct faculty, and other contingent workers, revealing how speculative market bubbles ripple through higher education, shaping access, equity, and the future of an educated workforce.

As the market approaches the 30 P/E ratio mark, reminiscent of levels that preceded the dot-com crash, HEI readers must understand that this is more than a finance story. It is a warning that economic speculation, institutional priorities, and the fragility of endowment-dependent universities are deeply interconnected, affecting both the opportunities available to students and the stability of higher education itself.

Sources: