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In a move poised to send millions of Americans into financial distress, the U.S. Department of Education announced this week that its Office of Federal Student Aid (FSA) will resume collections on defaulted federal student loans starting Monday, May 5, 2025. This marks the official end of a pandemic-era pause in collections that has been in place since March 2020.
The timing of the announcement is already sparking anxiety—but it's just the beginning. While collections begin next month, experts warn that by September, we could see a full-scale panic as a surge of borrowers hit the 270-day threshold for loan delinquency, legally tipping them into default status. The clock is ticking for millions who have missed or deferred payments during the chaotic restart of loan servicing.
According to the Department, 42.7 million Americans now owe more than $1.6 trillion in student loan debt. Shockingly, only 38 percent are current on their payments, and nearly 10 million borrowers are already in default or serious delinquency. These numbers are expected to climb sharply as repayment systems falter and financial strain deepens.
Education Secretary Linda McMahon, in announcing the decision, framed the return to collections as a victory for taxpayers. “American taxpayers will no longer be forced to serve as collateral for irresponsible student loan policies,” she said, taking aim at the previous administration’s debt relief efforts, which she labeled “illegal loan forgiveness schemes.”
But for millions of borrowers—especially those from working-class backgrounds and communities of color—this policy marks the end of hope. Many had placed their faith in long-promised reforms and debt relief that never fully materialized.
Hope, however, is not entirely dead. The forthcoming book The Student Debt Crisis: America’s Moral Urgency by Dr. Jamal Watson—journalist, professor, and associate dean at Trinity Washington University—lays bare the human cost of the crisis. Scheduled for release in September 2025, the book is expected to coincide with the fallout from a wave of new defaults. Watson calls the debt system “a modern form of indentured servitude,” and his work amplifies the voices of those crushed under its weight.
Beginning next week, the Department will restart the Treasury Offset Program, which allows the federal government to seize tax refunds and federal benefits to collect on unpaid loans. Administrative wage garnishment is also scheduled to resume later this summer. Borrowers in default will receive email instructions in the coming weeks, urging them to contact the Default Resolution Group to avoid harsher penalties.
In an attempt to soften the blow, the Department has announced an enhanced Income-Driven Repayment (IDR) process, promising to streamline enrollment and eliminate annual income verification. Additionally, roughly 1.9 million stalled borrower applications, held up since August 2024, are slated for processing beginning in May.
Still, these administrative changes are unlikely to ease the broader economic pain. The reactivation of collections amid economic uncertainty and servicing confusion is expected to deepen the divide between those who can navigate the system—and those who cannot.
The Higher Education Inquirer has long tracked the rise of the “educated underclass”—graduates and dropouts alike, burdened with debt but lacking economic mobility. For them, May 5 is only the beginning. The real crisis looms in September, when an avalanche of defaults could further destabilize lives, families, and entire communities.
We will be here to report it.
If you’re facing default, garnishment, or administrative hurdles, the Higher Education Inquirer wants to hear your story. Email us confidentially to be part of our ongoing investigation.
Class conflict has always been woven into the fabric of American higher education. The struggle over access, affordability, and control of knowledge production has long pitted economic elites against working-class and middle-class students, faculty, and staff. Since the 1960s, these tensions have only deepened, exacerbated by policy shifts that have served to entrench inequality rather than dismantle it.
The 1960s marked a critical turning point in the political battle over higher education. Ronald Reagan’s war on the University of California system while he was governor set the tone for a broader conservative backlash against public higher education, which had been expanding to accommodate the postwar baby boom and increasing calls for racial and economic justice. Reagan’s attacks on free tuition and student activism foreshadowed decades of policies designed to limit public investment in higher education while encouraging privatization and corporate influence.
Since the 1970s, economic inequality in the US has grown dramatically, and higher education has been both a battleground and a casualty in this ongoing class war. Today, the sector is experiencing a long-running meltdown, with no signs of reversal. The following key issues illustrate the breadth of the crisis:
The promise of higher education as a pathway to economic security has eroded. A growing segment of college graduates, particularly those from working-class backgrounds, find themselves in precarious employment, often saddled with student debt and working jobs that do not require a degree. The rise of the educated underclass reflects a broader trend of economic stratification in the US, where social mobility is increasingly constrained.
Student loan debt has surpassed $1.7 trillion, shackling millions of Americans to a lifetime of financial insecurity. The cost of higher education has skyrocketed, while wages have stagnated, leaving many borrowers unable to pay off their loans. Rather than addressing this crisis with systemic reform, policymakers have largely chosen half-measures and band-aid solutions that fail to address the structural drivers of student debt.
The influx of international students, particularly from wealthy families abroad, has been used as a revenue stream for cash-strapped universities. While diversity in higher education is valuable, the prioritization of full-tuition-paying international students over domestic students, especially those from working-class backgrounds, reflects a troubling shift in university priorities from public good to profit-seeking.
Higher education’s labor crisis is one of its most glaring failures. Over the past several decades, universities have replaced tenured faculty with contingent faculty—adjuncts and lecturers who work for low wages with no job security. This adjunctification has degraded the quality of education while exacerbating economic precarity for instructors, who now make up the majority of faculty positions in the US.
Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives have become a central focus of university policies, yet they often serve as a superficial substitute for genuine racial and economic justice. Originating in part from efforts like those of Ward Connerly in California, DEI programs provide cover for institutions that continue to perpetuate racial and economic inequities, while failing to address core issues such as wealth redistribution, labor rights, and equitable access to higher education.
Public funding for universities has declined, and in its place, privatization has surged. Universities have increasingly outsourced services, partnered with corporations, and relied on private donors and endowments to stay afloat. This shift has transformed higher education into a commodity rather than a public good, further marginalizing low-income students and faculty who cannot compete in a system driven by financial interests.
The rise of online education, fueled by for-profit colleges and Online Program Managers (OPMs), has introduced new layers of exploitation and inequality. While online education promises accessibility, in practice, it has been used to cut costs, lower instructional quality, and extract profits from students—many of whom are left with degrees of questionable value and significant debt.
As economic pressures mount and academic work becomes more precarious, feelings of alienation and anomie have intensified. Students and faculty alike find themselves disconnected from the traditional mission of higher education as a space for critical thought and democratic engagement. The result is a crisis of meaning that extends beyond the university into broader society.
At the other end of the spectrum, elite universities continue to amass enormous endowments, wielding disproportionate influence over higher education policy and urban development. These institutions contribute to gentrification, driving up housing costs in surrounding areas while serving as gatekeepers to elite status. Their governing structures—dominated by trustees from finance, industry, and politics—reflect the interests of the wealthy rather than the needs of students and faculty.
To avoid the full entrenchment of an oligarchic system, those who hold power in higher education must step aside and allow for systemic transformation. This means prioritizing policies that restore public investment in education, dismantle student debt, protect academic labor, and democratize decision-making processes. The fight for a more just and equitable higher education system is inseparable from the broader struggle for democracy itself.
As history has shown, real change will not come from those at the top—it will come from the courageous efforts of students, faculty, and workers who refuse to accept a system built on exploitation and inequality. The time to act is now.
In this so-called Age of Information, we find ourselves plunged into a paradoxical darkness—a time when myth increasingly triumphs over truth, and justice is routinely deformed or deferred. At The Higher Education Inquirer, we call it the Digital Dark Ages.
Despite the unprecedented access to data and connectivity, we’re witnessing a decay in critical thought, a rise in disinformation, and the erosion of institutions once thought to be champions of intellectual rigor. Higher education, far from being immune, is now entangled in this digital storm—none more so than in the rise of robocolleges and the assault on public universities themselves.
The myths of the Digital Dark Ages come packaged as innovation and access. Online education is heralded as the great equalizer—a tool to democratize knowledge and reach underserved students. But as the dust settles, a darker truth emerges: many of these online programs are not centers of enlightenment, but factories of debt and disillusionment. Myth has become a business model.
The fantasy of upward mobility through a flexible online degree masks a grim reality. The students—often working-class professionals juggling jobs and families—become robostudents, herded through algorithmic coursework with minimal human interaction. The faculty, increasingly adjunct or contract-based, become roboworkers, ghosting in and out of online discussion boards, often managing hundreds of students with little support. And behind it all stands the robocollege—a machine optimized not for education, but for profit.
The rapid growth of online-only education has introduced a new breed of institutions: for-profit, non-profit, secular, and religious, all sharing a similar DNA. Among the most prominent are Southern New Hampshire University, Grand Canyon University, Liberty University Online, University of Maryland Global Campus, Purdue University Global, Walden University, Capella University, Colorado Tech, and the rebranded former for-profits now operating under public university names, like University of Phoenix and University of Arizona Global Campus.
These robocolleges promise convenience and career readiness. In practice, they churn out thousands of credentials in fields like education, healthcare, business, and public administration—often leaving behind hundreds of billions of dollars in student loan debt.
The Robocollege Model is defined by:
Automation Over Education
Aggressive Marketing and Recruitment
High Tuition with Low Return
Shallow Curricula and Limited Academic Support
Poor Job Placement and Overburdened Students
These institutions optimize for profit and political protection, not pedagogy. Many align themselves with right-wing agendas, blending Christian nationalism with capitalist pragmatism, while marketing themselves as the moral antidote to “woke” education.
Former President Donald Trump didn’t just attack political rivals—he waged an ideological war against higher education itself. Under his administration and continuing through his influence, the right has cast universities as hotbeds of liberal indoctrination, cultural decay, and bureaucratic excess. Public universities and their faculties have been relentlessly vilified as enemies of “real America.”
Central to Trump’s campaign was the targeting of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives. Executive orders banned federally funded diversity training, and right-wing media amplified the narrative that DEI was a form of “reverse racism” and leftist brainwashing. That playbook has since been adopted by Republican governors and legislatures across the country, leading to:
Defunding DEI Offices: Entire departments dedicated to equity have been dismantled in states like Florida and Texas.
Censorship of Curriculum: Academic freedom is under siege as laws restrict the teaching of race, gender, and American history.
Chilling Effects on Faculty: Scholars of color, queer faculty, and those doing critical theory face retaliation, termination, or self-censorship.
Hostile Campus Environments: Students in marginalized groups are increasingly isolated, unsupported, and surveilled.
This culture war is not simply rhetorical—it’s institutional. It weakens public confidence in higher education, strips protections for vulnerable communities, and drives talent out of teaching and research. It also feeds directly into the robocollege model, which offers a sanitized, uncritical, and commodified version of education to replace the messy, vital work of civic learning and self-reflection.
Today, more than 45 million Americans are trapped in a cycle of student loan debt servitude, collectively owing over $1.7 trillion. Robocolleges have played a central role in inflating this debt by promising career transformation and delivering questionable outcomes.
Debt has become a silent form of social control—disabling an entire generation’s ability to invest, build, or dissent.
Delayed Life Milestones
Psychological Toll
Stalled Economic Mobility
This is not just a personal burden—it is the product of decades of deregulation, privatization, and a bipartisan consensus that treats education as a private good rather than a public right.
Over time, and especially under Trump-aligned officials like Betsy DeVos, the U.S. Department of Education has been hollowed out, repurposed to protect predatory institutions rather than students. Key actions include:
Rolling Back Protections for borrowers defrauded by for-profit colleges.
Weakening Oversight of accreditation and accountability metrics.
Empowering Loan Servicers to act with impunity.
Undermining Public Education in favor of vouchers, charters, and online alternatives.
The result? Robocolleges and their corporate allies are given free rein to exploit. Students are caught in the machinery. And the very institution charged with protecting educational integrity has been turned into a clearinghouse for deregulated profiteering.
This is where we are: in a Digital Dark Age where myths drive markets, and education has become a shell of its democratic promise. But all is not lost.
Resistance lives—in underfunded community colleges, independent media, academic unions, student debt collectives, and grassroots movements that refuse to accept the commodification of learning.
What’s needed now is not another tech “solution” or rebranding campaign. We need a recommitment to education as a public good. That means:
Rebuilding and funding public universities
Protecting academic freedom and DEI efforts
Canceling student debt and regulating private actors
Restoring the Department of Education as a tool for justice
Rethinking accreditation, equity, and access through a democratic lens
Because if we do not act now—if we do not call the Digital Dark Ages by name—we may soon forget what truth, justice, and education ever meant.
If you value this kind of reporting, support independent voices like The Higher Education Inquirer. Share this piece with others fighting to reclaim truth, equity, and public education from the shadows.
In a move that has raised eyebrows across Washington and beyond, President Donald Trump recently announced a plan to transfer the U.S. Department of Education’s vast student loan portfolio—totaling a staggering $1.8 trillion—to the Small Business Administration (SBA). This bold step is ostensibly designed to streamline the management of federal student loans, but it is also seen by many as the first move in a larger effort to dismantle the Department of Education entirely, reduce federal oversight, and privatize key aspects of the student loan system. Alongside this plan, there are growing discussions about eliminating essential borrower protections, including programs like Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF), Pay As You Earn (PAYE), Income-Contingent Repayment (ICR), and the Borrower Defense to Repayment program, all of which have offered critical relief to millions of students. Additionally, the rollback of Gainful Employment regulations—which were designed to protect students from predatory for-profit institutions—further signals a shift toward private sector control, which has historically benefited lenders over borrowers.
The Alleged 'Rescue' of the Loan Portfolio
The White House has framed the transfer of the student loan portfolio to the SBA as a necessary step to relieve the Department of Education (ED) of a heavy burden, positioning the SBA as the new “caretaker” of the nation’s student debt. According to President Trump, the SBA—under the leadership of Kelly Loeffler—will now handle the $1.8 trillion student loan portfolio, while the Department of Education focuses on other key educational initiatives.
For some, the move seems like a fresh approach to a problem that has long plagued U.S. higher education: the overwhelming student debt crisis. However, a deeper look into the mechanics of the transfer suggests that this could be the first step toward a far more troubling goal: the dismantling of the federal student loan system and the privatization of debt, a shift that could harm millions of consumers in the process.
The SBA’s Inexperience with Student Loans
The SBA, traditionally tasked with managing small business loans, lacks the expertise to effectively manage the complex structure of federal student loans, which include income-driven repayment plans, loan forgiveness programs, and various protections for struggling borrowers. With the agency also facing significant staffing cuts, it’s highly unlikely that the SBA will be able to competently handle such a vast and complicated portfolio—especially when 40% of these loans are already in default or behind on payments.
This raises an obvious question: is the SBA being set up to fail? Some insiders suggest that the failure of the SBA to properly manage the student loan portfolio could be deliberate—creating a crisis that would justify selling off the portfolio to private companies, thus privatizing the entire system.
The Planned Failure: A Strategy for Privatization?
According to several former senior officials within the Department of Education, the transfer of the student loan portfolio to the SBA could be a calculated move to destabilize the federal loan system. The apparent failure of the SBA to manage the loans would then serve as a justification for transferring the loans to the private sector. This mirrors tactics used in other sectors where privatization was pursued under the guise of government inefficiency. The fear is that this move could ultimately lead to for-profit companies taking over the loan system, with borrowers facing higher interest rates, stricter repayment terms, and the loss of essential protections.
Who Stands to Gain from Privatizing Student Loans?
The shift toward privatizing student loans stands to benefit several key players in the financial and educational sectors, particularly for-profit companies and private lenders who have long pushed for deregulation and profit-driven management of student debt. The primary beneficiaries would include:
Private Lenders and Financial Institutions: Banks, investment firms, and loan servicing companies are the most obvious winners in a privatized student loan system. With the federal government stepping back, these entities would gain control over the $1.8 trillion portfolio, allowing them to set higher interest rates, stricter repayment terms, and impose fees on borrowers. This would turn student loans into even more lucrative financial products for the private sector.
For-Profit Educational Institutions: For-profit colleges, which often rely on student loans to fund their operations, could also stand to gain. These institutions—many of which have faced significant scrutiny for high tuition costs and poor student outcomes—would benefit from a less regulated environment. Without the Gainful Employment regulations, which were designed to hold these institutions accountable for their job placement and earnings data, they would face fewer restrictions on their recruitment practices and financial dealings, potentially allowing them to continue enrolling students in expensive, low-quality programs.
Servicers and Debt Collection Agencies: Loan servicers and debt collection agencies that would likely take over the management of student loans in a privatized system stand to profit greatly. By controlling the servicing of student loans, these companies can increase their fees and aggressively pursue defaulting borrowers, further exacerbating the financial hardship for many students. These entities would benefit from a less regulated environment where the focus would shift toward profitability, often at the expense of borrowers.
Political Donors and Lobbyists: Financial institutions and for-profit education providers have historically been major political donors and lobbyists, particularly to policymakers who have pushed for deregulation of student loan systems. Privatization could provide these stakeholders with the opportunity to consolidate their power over the student loan industry, influencing policy decisions in their favor and ensuring continued access to profits from the student loan market.
A History of Struggles: Lack of Oversight and Privatization Since the 1980s
The idea of privatizing student loans and dismantling federal oversight is not entirely new. In fact, the U.S. student loan system has been struggling for decades due to a lack of oversight and a trend toward privatization dating back to the 1980s. The federal government’s role as a guarantor of student loans—starting with the creation of the Guaranteed Student Loan (GSL) program in the 1960s—was eventually scaled back, leading to a rise in private student loans. As private lenders entered the student loan market, particularly during the 1990s and 2000s, the system became increasingly unregulated, leading to rising debt levels and predatory lending practices.
By the 1980s, the federal government’s reliance on private institutions to handle student loans led to a lack of transparency, accountability, and consumer protections. In particular, private lenders began to offer loans with fewer safeguards, contributing to the explosion of student loan debt and the proliferation of for-profit colleges that preyed on vulnerable students. The government, despite its involvement, increasingly stepped back from actively managing the loan system, leaving students with limited options for relief when they fell into financial distress.
The Consequences of Deregulation: Elite Colleges and the Growing Educated Underclass
One of the most significant byproducts of the shift toward privatization and deregulation in U.S. higher education has been the growth of a growing educated underclass. While elite colleges have continued to thrive, expanding their endowments and increasing their tuition fees, a large segment of the population is left with a degree and overwhelming debt that fails to deliver on its promise. Over the past several decades, prestigious universities have only gotten wealthier, with many now sitting on endowments of billions of dollars. These institutions benefit from the student loan system, which allows students to take on more debt to afford high tuition costs, all while their wealthy alumni networks and expansive endowments only grow larger.
At the same time, a growing number of students from lower-income backgrounds—many of whom attend for-profit or underfunded public colleges—are graduating with significant debt and few prospects for stable, high-paying careers. This has created a growing “educated underclass,” where graduates with degrees struggle to find employment that pays enough to manage their loan repayment, further exacerbating wealth inequality.
The Dangers of Future Issues: AI, Automation, and the Loss of Good Jobs
Looking to the future, the privatization of student loans and the increasing burden of student debt could be exacerbated by emerging technological shifts, particularly in the fields of artificial intelligence (AI) and automation. As industries evolve and more jobs become automated, many middle-class careers traditionally accessible to graduates may disappear or evolve into low-wage, low-security positions. This could lead to an even larger divide between the "haves" and "have-nots" in society, where only those with connections or elite educational backgrounds can secure stable, high-paying employment.
For students entering the workforce with massive student loan debt, this would present a troubling scenario where their ability to repay their loans becomes even more difficult as fewer well-paying jobs are available. This, in turn, would increase the financial strain on future generations of students who are already navigating a rapidly changing job market. For many, student loans could become an insurmountable barrier, keeping them trapped in cycles of debt that are impossible to escape.
Moreover, the increasing reliance on private companies to manage student loans, with their focus on profitability, could exacerbate these issues by offering fewer opportunities for income-driven repayment plans or relief options that account for the economic realities of an AI-powered, automation-driven economy. As the job market continues to shrink and evolve, the need for federal programs to support borrowers through tough economic times will only grow.
The Impact of Eliminating Borrower Protections
The elimination of borrower protections—such as PSLF, PAYE, ICR, and Borrower Defense to Repayment—would significantly worsen the student loan crisis. Public Service Loan Forgiveness, for example, allows individuals working in essential public service careers to receive loan forgiveness after ten years of qualifying payments. Without this program, many public servants would face a lifetime of insurmountable debt. Similarly, income-driven repayment programs allow borrowers to repay loans based on their income, making it easier for those in low-paying fields to manage their debt.
The Borrower Defense to Repayment program provides vital relief to students who were defrauded by their institutions. Without strong enforcement of this program, students may have no recourse to seek relief from predatory schools. The rollback of Gainful Employment regulations could further expose students to the risks of attending for-profit institutions that fail to deliver on their promises.
The Long-Term Fallout: A Dangerous Precedent
The long-term consequences of privatizing student loans could include exacerbating wealth inequality, widening the racial wealth gap, and creating an economic landscape where education debt is a permanent burden on a generation of students. If privatization moves forward, the financial burden of education will likely become a far more persistent and overwhelming problem, especially for those who can least afford it.
What’s particularly concerning is that in past crises, it’s the elites—wealthy colleges, financial institutions, and large corporations—that have consistently received the bulk of government bailouts. The same institutions that contribute the least to solving the country’s educational inequities continue to benefit from taxpayer-funded relief. If privatization moves forward, we cannot allow the same pattern to repeat itself. The majority of relief should go to those most burdened by student debt, not those who already have the means to navigate the system with ease.
The Future of Higher Education Debt: A Call to Protect Federal Loan Programs
At the Higher Education Inquirer, we stand in full support of federal student loan forgiveness and repayment programs, including PSLF, PAYE, and ICR, as they offer essential pathways for borrowers, especially public service workers and low-income individuals. These programs provide vital relief to borrowers, allowing them to focus on their careers without the burden of overwhelming debt. We urge policymakers to protect, enhance, and expand these vital initiatives to ensure that education remains accessible and equitable for all.
As we continue to face challenges in higher education financing, it is crucial to learn from past mistakes and advocate for systems that prioritize the well-being of students, not profit. The proposed privatization of the student loan system threatens to undo decades of progress and burden future generations with lifelong debt. It is essential that we protect these programs and work toward a solution that prioritizes education and fairness over corporate interests.