University of Phoenix’s “TransferPath” App: Convenience or Marketing Hype?

The University of Phoenix has launched TransferPath, a mobile app promising prospective students a quick estimate of how many previous college credits might transfer toward a Phoenix degree. At first glance, it sounds like a win: upload your transcripts, get a pre-evaluation, and move faster toward completing your degree. The EdTech Innovation Hub article covering the launch presents the app as an unambiguously positive innovation—but a closer look raises serious questions.

The EdTech piece reads more like a press release than investigative reporting. It offers no insight into how pre-evaluations are calculated, whether faculty are involved, or how often initial predictions align with final credit acceptance. Without this transparency, students risk developing false confidence and making financial or academic decisions based on incomplete or misleading information.

The app also reflects the asymmetry of power between institution and student. While marketed as a convenience, it is ultimately a recruitment tool. The University of Phoenix controls which credits are accepted, and the app’s messaging may funnel students into its programs regardless of whether other paths would better serve their educational goals.

Missing from the coverage is context. Phoenix’s history as a for-profit institution has drawn scrutiny over retention rates, student debt, and degree outcomes. Presenting TransferPath without acknowledging this background creates a misleading narrative that the app is purely a student-centered innovation. Equity concerns are similarly absent. Students without smartphones, stable internet, or digital literacy may be excluded or misled. There is no evidence that the app serves all students fairly or that its credit predictions are accurate across diverse educational backgrounds.

TransferPath may indeed offer some convenience, but convenience alone does not equal value. Prospective students deserve clarity, honesty, and rigorous evaluation of how tools like this actually function. They need more than marketing optimism—they need realistic guidance to navigate the complexities of credit transfer, institutional incentives, and long-term outcomes.

Until such transparency and accountability are provided, TransferPath risks being more of a recruitment gimmick than a meaningful step forward in higher education.

"Peak Higher Education" Book Debuts January 6, 2026 (Bryan Alexander)

Peak Higher Ed: How to Survive the Looming Academic Crisis by Bryan Alexander debuts January 6, 2026.  Here's a synopsis. 

Over the past decade, American colleges and universities have seen enrollment decline, campuses close, programs cut, faculty and staff laid off, and public confidence erode. In Peak Higher Ed, futurist Bryan Alexander forecasts what the next decade might hold if we continue down this path. He argues that the United States has passed its high-water mark for postsecondary education and now faces a critical turning point. How will higher ed institutions respond to this wave of change and crisis?

Combining data-driven research with scenario modeling, Alexander outlines a powerful framework for understanding what led to this moment: declining birthrates, surging student debt, rising tuition, shifting political winds, and growing skepticism about the value of a college degree. He maps out how these forces, if left unchecked, could continue to reshape academia by shrinking its footprint, narrowing its mission, and jeopardizing its role in addressing the planet's most pressing challenges, from climate change to artificial intelligence. Alexander explores how institutions might adapt or recover, presenting two possible futures: a path of managed descent and a more hopeful course of reinvention.

Peak Higher Ed examines the fraying of the "college for all" consensus, the long shadow of pandemic-era disruptions, and the political polarization that has placed universities in the crosshairs. Written for educators, policymakers, students, and anyone invested in the future of higher learning, this book offers a deeply informed, unflinching look at the road ahead and the choices that will determine whether colleges and universities retreat from their peak or rise to a new one.

When Educators Back the Cheating Platform: The Strange Case of Chegg (Glen McGhee)

Chegg — once a poster child for pandemic-era edtech growth — is now in free fall. In 2025 the company announced it would slash 45 % of its workforce, citing plunging web traffic, collapsing revenue, and the onslaught of AI tools that let students bypass paid homework help altogether.

It’s a dramatic reversal for a company that sold itself as a learning aid. But behind that collapse lies an even more troubling paradox: many teacher pension funds and public retirement systems — in whose names educators put decades of trust — hold millions in Chegg stock. Why would those funds invest in a company whose business model many of their own beneficiaries see as unethical, even corrosive?

We’ve seen this pattern before. In the early 2000s, retirement funds like these were major institutional investors in for-profit higher education companies such as EDMC, ITT Tech, and the University of Phoenix. Those institutions promised strong returns but ultimately collapsed under fraud allegations, predatory practices, and declining enrollments. Many public-sector workers indirectly suffered as the funds lost money. Chegg’s story looks eerily similar: high growth promises, an ethically contested business model, and exposure of public retirement funds to extreme financial risk. The repetition suggests a structural pattern: when education is financialized and commodified, the people meant to serve it — educators and students — are exposed to both moral and economic hazards.

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The Downward Spiral: Why Chegg Is Crashing

Chegg’s decline didn’t begin yesterday. It was seeded by technological disruption and a fragile business model dependent on volume, content access, and student compliance. Generative AI tools such as ChatGPT and Bard have undercut Chegg’s core service: paid homework help and explanations. Students can often get free answers faster and more flexibly. Google’s “AI overviews,” which display answer snippets directly in search results, divert traffic away from Chegg’s site, reducing ad and subscription conversions. Chegg has even sued Google, alleging unfair competition.

Earlier in 2025, Chegg laid off 22 % of its staff and closed its U.S. and Canada offices to cut costs. That was supposed to be a stabilization move, but it foreshadowed deeper troubles. The more recent 45 % layoff is sweeping: 388 jobs are being cut, $15–19 million in severance charges are expected, and $100–110 million in cost savings are projected for 2026. Chegg’s stock has lost approximately 99 % of its value since its 2021 peak. Yet the company is still pursuing a pivot toward B2B “skilling” markets, though skeptics doubt whether this can make up for the erosion of its original model. In short, Chegg is facing structural obsolescence. The ecosystem that once made its growth plausible is collapsing around it.

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Pension Funds and the Strange Attraction to Chegg

Several public pension and teachers’ retirement systems hold millions in Chegg: Kentucky Teachers’ Retirement System owns $4.5 million, California State Teachers’ Retirement System owns $4 million, New York State Common Retirement Fund owns $13 million, Colorado Public Employees’ Retirement Fund owns $9.3 million, California Public Employees’ Retirement Fund owns $5.3 million, a Florida retirement fund owns $3.3 million, Ohio Public Employees Retirement owns $1.5 million, and the Teacher Retirement System of Texas owns $630,000.

These investments raise hard questions. Do pension fund managers assume Chegg will survive its technological disruption? Are they prioritizing short-term returns over long-term reputational or ethical risk? Do they believe the stock is undervalued and thus a “contrarian bet”? Are they following passive index allocations rather than making deliberate choices? Some fund managers defend such investments as fulfilling fiduciary duty: to maximize returns for their beneficiaries within acceptable risk parameters. Ethical considerations, they argue, should not trump financial sustainability — especially in a system underfunded and under stress. But when the bet fails, the consequences fall hardest on retirees, educators, and the public who trusted those funds to safeguard their futures.

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Do We Owe Them Sympathy?

It’s tempting to feel a bit sorry: pension funds losing money is a headline nobody wants. But sympathy is complicated. These funds store and grow the life savings of public-sector workers — teachers, librarians, and staff. A poorly timed speculative investment can damage retiree security and erode public trust. On the other hand, this is no innocent failure; it is a foreseeable risk in backing a business facing existential challenges. It reflects a broader pattern of financialization in education: turning learning into a profit-seeking venture, exposing it to wild swings, and treating educators and students as market participants. Losses are regrettable, especially at the human level, but they also demand accountability. Institutions must explain why they placed trust in Chegg when its vulnerabilities were visible.

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What This Reveals: Institutional Contradiction

This episode exposes several deeper contradictions at the intersection of education, finance, and values. Many educators see Chegg as a threat to academic integrity, yet the institutions managing their retirement funds believed in its upside. Some investors are attracted to the “turnaround bet,” seeing potential in a company trading at a fraction of its former value, though the risk is very high. Some funds may hold Chegg because their portfolios track broad indices, ceding moral discretion to the market. Education has become infrastructure built on venture logic, and the Chegg collapse is a warning: when learning becomes a commodity, its institutions become as unstable as any tech startup. Finally, if pension funds backed a cheating-enabled platform, what else might their capital support, and how does that affect trust in those institutions?

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A Moral and Institutional Reckoning 

Chegg’s collapse is not just a market drama; it’s a moral and institutional reckoning. A company built on a questionable model is now evaporating under AI pressure. Meanwhile, public pension funds — meant to safeguard the futures of educators — placed bets on that very evaporation.

We might feel a pang of sympathy for the financial losses. But our greater duty is to probe the judgment of those entrusted with public capital, and to demand coherence between values and investment. If the administrators of teacher retirement funds cannot align ethics with asset allocation, then their claims to serving the public good are weakened — and so is the trust on which the idea of public education depends.

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Sources

Barron’s: “Chegg Is Suing Google. The Stock Is Sinking.”
Reuters: “Chegg to lay off 22% of workforce as AI tools shake up edtech industry.”
SF Chronicle: “Bay Area educational tech company slashes 248 jobs as students turn to AI tools for learning.”
The Cheatsheet Substack: “Meet Chegg’s Biggest Backers.”
The Chronicle of Higher Education: “Work in Public Education and Hate Chegg? You Might Be an Investor.”
Wikipedia: “Chegg”

BORROWERS AGAINST APOLLO EVENT, FRIDAY NOVEMBER 7TH, NEW YORK CITY (HELU, AAUP, AFT)

[Editor's Note: Readers can sign up for the event at BORROWERS AGAINST APOLLO.  Ensure that you click on "Switch account" to submit the form from your Google account.]

BORROWERS AGAINST APOLLO

WHO:  American Association of University Professors (AAUP), NYU AAUP, Higher Ed Labor Union (HELU), The Professional Staff Congress-  City University of New York (PSC-CUNY), NY Metro Coalition for Higher Ed,  Sunrise Movement,  Hands Off  NYC,  American Federation of Teachers (AFT) union, and student loan borrowers. 

WHEN: Friday - November 7 at 11AM

LOCATION: Apollo Global Headquarters - 9 West 57th Street, New York, NY 10019

QUESTIONS? ApolloAction25@gmail.com 

Higher Ed Unions, Student Unions, and For-Profit College Borrowers Unite Against Trump’s “Higher Education Compact”

Several higher education unions, student unions, and former students of for-profit colleges are organizing in opposition to the Trump administration’s proposed “higher education compact”—a plan heavily shaped and promoted by private-equity billionaire Marc Rowan.

Rowan, the CEO of Apollo Global Management, has played a central role in advancing this proposal. Apollo owns several predatory for-profit institutions, including the University of Phoenix, one of the most notorious offenders in the industry.

In a recent New York Times op-ed, Rowan took public credit for the compact, writing:

“The evidence is overwhelming: outrageous costs and prolonged indebtedness for students; poor outcomes, with too many students left unable to find meaningful work after graduating…”

Yet, under Rowan’s leadership, the University of Phoenix has become the largest source of Borrower Defense claims of any for-profit school, with more than 100,000 pending applications as of July 2025. Borrower Defense is a federal protection that allows students to seek loan forgiveness if their school misled them or violated state or federal law.

The University of Phoenix has faced multiple law enforcement investigations for deceptive recruiting tactics that targeted veterans, service members, and working adults nationwide. The school’s misconduct led to a $191 million settlement with the Federal Trade Commission for falsely claiming partnerships with major employers. More recently, the university attempted to portray itself as a public institution while seeking to sell to two states—both of which ultimately rejected the deal after public backlash.

While Rowan’s personal fortune exceeds $7 billion, borrowers continue to shoulder crushing debt from degrees that delivered little to no value. His leadership has fueled a system that profits from student harm—and now, through this compact, he is setting his sights on reshaping major public universities.

We refuse to stay silent. Borrowers, students, and educators are standing together to demand accountability and defend higher education from predatory perpetrators.

JOIN THE FIGHT AGAINST FOR-PROFIT COLLEGE GREED – NOVEMBER 7

The for-profit college industry has harmed countless students — and it’s time they hear directly from us. Join us outside Apollo Global Management Headquarters on Friday, November 7 at 11:00 a.m. to make your voice heard and demand accountability.

We’re calling on borrowers from for-profit schools who were misled or left in debt by this predatory system. Travel support may be available for anyone within train distance of New York City. We’ll provide shirts, posters, and everything you need to show up strong. (Apollo’s offices are about 20 minutes from Penn Station by subway.)

We’re also looking for University of Phoenix borrowers willing to speak publicly or to the press about their experiences. Additional travel assistance can be arranged for those coming from outside the NYC area.

If you’re ready to share your story and take a stand, reach out today. Together, we can show Apollo — and the entire for-profit college industry — that borrowers are not backing down.

CAN’T MAKE IT BUT WANT TO GET INVOLVED?

We’re always looking to connect with borrowers and allies. There are many ways to take part in this fight — from sharing your story and supporting organizing efforts to helping spread the word. Reach out to learn how you can get involved and join the movement for justice in higher education.

Ivory Towers and Pharma Profits: How Higher Education Fuels Big Pharma’s Bottom Line

As public outrage grows over the astronomical cost of prescription drugs, a quieter but equally consequential dynamic demands scrutiny: the entanglement of higher education institutions with the pharmaceutical industry. Universities—especially those with medical schools and biomedical research centers—have become indispensable players in Big Pharma’s pipeline. While these partnerships often promise innovation and public benefit, they also raise troubling questions about academic independence, ethical boundaries, and the commodification of publicly funded science.

Medical Education: A Curriculum Under Influence

Medical schools are tasked with training future physicians in evidence-based care. Yet many institutions maintain financial ties with pharmaceutical companies that risk compromising the integrity of their curricula. Faculty members often receive consulting fees, research grants, and honoraria from drug manufacturers. In some cases, industry-sponsored materials and lectures are integrated into coursework, subtly shaping how students understand disease treatment and drug efficacy.

This influence extends beyond the classroom. Continuing medical education (CME), a requirement for practicing physicians, is frequently funded by pharmaceutical companies. Critics argue that this model incentivizes the promotion of branded drugs over generics or non-pharmaceutical interventions, reinforcing prescribing habits that benefit corporate interests more than patient outcomes.

University Research: Innovation or Outsourcing?

Academic research is a cornerstone of pharmaceutical development. Universities conduct early-stage investigations into disease mechanisms, drug targets, and therapeutic compounds—often funded by public grants. Pharmaceutical companies then step in to commercialize promising discoveries, assuming control over clinical trials, regulatory approval, and marketing.

While this division of labor can accelerate drug development, it also shifts the locus of control. Universities may prioritize research that aligns with industry interests, sidelining studies that lack commercial appeal. Moreover, corporate sponsors can exert influence over publication timelines, data interpretation, and intellectual property rights. The result is a research ecosystem where profit potential increasingly dictates scientific inquiry.

Case Studies: The University-Pharma Nexus in Action

Harvard University Harvard Medical School has faced scrutiny over the financial relationships between its faculty and pharmaceutical companies. A 2009 investigation by The New York Times revealed that more than 1,600 Harvard-affiliated physicians had financial ties to drug and medical device makers. The controversy sparked student protests and led to reforms requiring faculty to disclose industry ties and limiting pharma-funded materials in classrooms.

Harvard’s research enterprise is deeply intertwined with Big Pharma. Its partnership with Novartis in developing personalized cancer treatments—particularly CAR-T cell therapy—illustrates how academic science feeds into high-cost commercial therapies. While the treatment represents a breakthrough, its price tag (often exceeding $400,000 per patient) raises questions about the public’s return on investment.

Yale University Yale’s collaboration with GlaxoSmithKline (GSK) on PROTACs (proteolysis-targeting chimeras) showcases the university’s role in pioneering new drug technologies. Under the agreement, Yale and GSK formed a joint research team to advance PROTACs from lab concept to clinical candidate. GSK gained rights to use the technology across multiple therapeutic areas, while Yale stood to receive milestone payments and royalties.

Yale’s Center for Clinical Investigation (YCCI) saw an 850% increase in industry-sponsored trials between 2006 and 2019. To address concerns about equity, YCCI launched the Cultural Ambassador Program to diversify trial participation. While this initiative promotes inclusivity, it also serves the interests of pharmaceutical sponsors seeking broader demographic data for regulatory approval.

University of Bristol (UK) The University of Bristol has maintained a decade-long partnership with GSK, spanning vaccine development, childhood disease research, and oral health. GSK funds PhD studentships and undergraduate placements and collaborates on data integrity initiatives. While the partnership aims to improve global health outcomes, it also serves GSK’s need to secure early-stage innovation and talent.

Temple University Temple’s Moulder Center for Drug Discovery Research exemplifies the shift toward academic-led drug discovery. Pharmaceutical companies increasingly rely on centers like this to conduct early-stage research, reducing their own financial risk. As patents expire and blockbuster drugs lose exclusivity, pharma firms turn to universities to replenish their pipelines—often with taxpayer-funded science.

ETH Zurich (Switzerland) ETH Zurich has become a hub for synthetic organic and medicinal chemistry, attracting partnerships with major pharmaceutical firms. Researchers at ETH conduct foundational work that pharma companies later commercialize. This reflects a broader trend: the outsourcing of riskier, cost-intensive research to academic institutions, often without proportional public benefit.

The Dark Legacy of Elite University Medical Centers

Beyond research and education, elite university medical centers have long been implicated in systemic inequality and exploitation. As detailed in The Dark Legacy of Elite Medical Centers, these institutions have historically treated marginalized and low-income patients as expendable research subjects. The term “Medical Apartheid,” coined by Harriet Washington, captures the racial and class-based exploitation embedded in American medical history.

The disparities extend to labor conditions as well. Support staff—often immigrants and people of color—face low wages, poor working conditions, and job insecurity, despite being essential to hospital operations. Meanwhile, early-career researchers and postdocs, many from working-class backgrounds, endure long hours and precarious employment while driving the innovation that fuels Big Pharma’s profits.

Even diversity initiatives at these institutions often fall short, focusing on optics rather than structural reform. As the article argues, “The institutional focus on ‘diversity’ and ‘inclusion’ often overlooks the more significant structural issues, such as the affordability of education, the class-based access to healthcare, and the economic barriers that continue to undermine the ability of disadvantaged individuals to receive quality care.”

Technology Transfer and Patents: The Profit Pipeline

Many universities have established technology transfer offices to manage the commercialization of academic discoveries. These offices negotiate licensing agreements with pharmaceutical companies, often securing royalties or equity stakes in exchange. While such arrangements can generate substantial revenue—especially for elite institutions—they also entangle universities in the profit-driven logic of the pharmaceutical market.

This entanglement has real-world consequences. Drugs developed with public funding and academic expertise are frequently priced out of reach for many patients. The Bayh-Dole Act of 1980, which allows universities to patent federally funded research, was intended to spur innovation. But critics argue it has enabled the privatization of public science, with universities acting as gatekeepers to life-saving treatments.

Ethical Crossroads: Transparency and Reform

The growing influence of Big Pharma in higher education has prompted calls for greater transparency and accountability. Some institutions have implemented conflict-of-interest policies, requiring faculty to disclose financial ties and limiting industry-sponsored events. Student-led movements have also emerged, demanding reforms to ensure that education and research serve the public good rather than corporate profit.

Yet systemic change remains elusive. The financial incentives are substantial, and the boundaries between academia and industry continue to blur. Without robust oversight and a recommitment to academic independence, universities risk becoming complicit in a system that prioritizes shareholder value over human health.

Rethinking the Role of Higher Ed and Medicine

Higher education institutions occupy a unique position in society—as centers of knowledge, innovation, and public trust. Their collaboration with Big Pharma is not inherently problematic, but it must be guided by ethical principles and a commitment to transparency. As the cost of healthcare continues to rise, universities must critically examine their role in the pharmaceutical ecosystem and ask whether their pursuit of profit is undermining their mission to serve the public.

The legacy of elite university medical centers is not just about innovation—it’s also about inequality. Until these institutions confront their role in perpetuating racial and class-based disparities, their contributions to public health will remain compromised.

Sources:

• The Dark Legacy of Elite University Medical Centers

• Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health: Pharma and Digital Innovation in China

• Harvard Business School Case Study: Novartis and Personalized Cancer Treatment

• Yale Law School: Pharmaceutical Public-Private Partnerships

• GSK and Yale PROTAC Collaboration Press Release

• Yale Center for Clinical Investigation Case Study

• University of Bristol and GSK Case Study

• Pharmaphorum: Universities and Pharma Companies Need Each Other

• Chemical & Engineering News: The Great Pharmaceutical-Academic Merger

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.

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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.

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.

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Sources

• Higher Education Inquirer. “The Student Debt Crisis and For-Profit Colleges.” HEI, 2024. https://www.highereducationinquirer.org/2024/02/the-student

• Higher Education Inquirer. “Elite Universities on Lockdown: Labor, Debt, and Exploitation.” HEI, 2024. https://www.highereducationinquirer.org/2024/09/elite-universities-on-lockdown.html

• Higher Education Inquirer. “Elite University Presidents: Most Hated and Least Trusted.” HEI, 2025. https://www.highereducationinquirer.org/2025/02/elite-university-presidents-most-hated.html

• Federal Reserve Bank of St. Louis. “Student Loans and Household Debt Statistics.” 2025. https://fred.stlouisfed.org

• Pew Research Center. “Job Satisfaction and College Graduates in the U.S.” 2025. https://www.pewresearch.org

Remote Work Rollback and the High Cost of Care: What Higher Education Should Know

The rollback of remote work policies across industries is reshaping labor markets, household economics, and ultimately, higher education. At the heart of this shift are competing forces: employers eager to reassert control over the workplace, families struggling with the cost of childcare, and an economy that risks losing productivity and talent when workers are forced into rigid arrangements.

For higher education, these developments are not distant trends—they directly affect students, employees, and the value of degrees in a labor market already strained by inequality.

One of the most pressing issues is the cost of childcare. In many parts of the United States, childcare now exceeds the cost of tuition at public universities. The rollback of flexible work means more parents—particularly mothers—face impossible choices between income and caregiving. Gender economists warn that this will have long-term consequences for workforce participation, with ripple effects on GDP.

When high performers, especially women in mid-career, exit the workforce due to a lack of flexibility, the loss is not only personal but systemic. Research has shown that reduced female participation translates into billions of dollars in lost GDP. For colleges and universities, this contraction weakens alumni networks, shrinks the pipeline of potential graduate students, and destabilizes family incomes that support tuition payments.

Higher education institutions are also employers. As universities push staff and faculty back into offices while offering minimal support for caregiving, they risk alienating the very professionals who sustain research and teaching. This compounds the long-standing crisis of adjunct labor and the broader erosion of academic working conditions. Many contingent faculty members already juggle multiple jobs while managing caregiving responsibilities—conditions made worse by rigid scheduling and the absence of benefits like paid leave or childcare subsidies.

The student debt crisis, too, is inseparable from these dynamics. Families already strained by high tuition and predatory lending practices cannot absorb the additional shock of rising care costs. For many working parents, pursuing higher education has become nearly impossible without flexible employment. In this way, the rollback of remote work further narrows access to education and entrenches inequality.

The rollback has been framed by some employers as a way to restore collaboration and productivity. But the evidence suggests the opposite may occur if flexibility is stripped away without accounting for the realities of modern family life. Gender economists argue that the choice is not simply between home and office but between an inclusive economy and one that sidelines caregivers.

For universities, the lesson is clear. If higher education is to prepare students for the future of work, it must also examine how it treats its own employees, how it supports student-parents, and how it positions itself in debates about labor, family, and equity. Ignoring the economics of care will only deepen inequality and accelerate the ongoing college meltdown.

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Sources

• Higher Education Inquirer. "The College Meltdown."

• Higher Education Inquirer. "Adjunct Labor and Inequality."

• Higher Education Inquirer. "Student Debt and Working Families."

• Blau, Francine D., and Lawrence M. Kahn. The Gendered Impact of Child Care Costs on Labor Market Participation.

• Goldin, Claudia. Career and Family: Women’s Century-Long Journey toward Equity.

Choosing the Right College as a Veteran: An Update for 2025

In 2018, Military Times published a guide titled “8 Tips to Help Vets Pick the Right College.” While the intent was good, the higher education landscape has shifted dramatically since then — and not for the better. For-profit colleges have collapsed and rebranded, public universities are raising tuition while cutting services, and predatory practices continue to target veterans with GI Bill benefits.

Meanwhile, agencies like the Department of Defense (DOD) and the Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) — tasked with protecting veterans — have too often failed in their oversight. Investigations have revealed FOIA stonewalling, regulatory rollbacks, and a revolving door between government and industry. Veterans are left to navigate a minefield of deceptive recruiting, inflated job-placement claims, and programs that leave them indebted and underemployed.

Here’s what veterans need to know in 2025.

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1. Don’t Trust the Branding

Colleges love to advertise themselves as “military friendly.” This phrase is meaningless. It’s often nothing more than a marketing slogan used to lure GI Bill dollars. The fact that a school has a veterans’ center or flags on campus tells you little about program quality, affordability, or long-term value.

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2. Look at the Numbers, Not the Sales Pitch

Use College Scorecard and IPEDS data to examine:

• Graduation and completion rates

• Typical debt after leaving school

• Loan default and repayment statistics

• Earnings of graduates in your intended field

If a school avoids publishing these numbers or makes them hard to find, that’s a red flag.

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3. Understand the Limits of Oversight

The VA’s GI Bill Comparison Tool and DOD “oversight” portals may look official, but they are incomplete and sometimes misleading. The VA has even restored access to schools after proven misconduct under political pressure. DOD contracts with shady for-profit providers continue despite documented abuse.

Oversight agencies are not independent referees — too often, they are captured regulators.

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4. Seek Independent Evidence

Avoid relying on large, national veteran nonprofits. Many of these organizations accept funding from schools, corporate partners, or government agencies with vested interests.

Instead, veterans should:

• Check state attorney general enforcement actions and FTC press releases.

• Read independent investigative journalism (such as the Higher Education Inquirer or Project on Predatory Student Lending).

• Ask tough questions of alumni — especially those who dropped out or ended up in debt.

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5. Watch Out for Job Placement Claims

Schools often boast of “high job placement rates” without clarifying what that means. Some count temporary or part-time work unrelated to your field. If a program promises guaranteed employment, demand written proof.

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6. Don’t Chase Prestige

Big-name universities are not automatically better. Some elite schools partner with for-profit online program managers (OPMs) that deliver low-quality, high-cost programs to veterans and working adults. Prestige branding doesn’t guarantee fair treatment.

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7. Weigh Community Colleges and Public Options

Community colleges can be a safer starting point, offering affordable tuition, transferable credits, and practical programs. Some state universities provide strong veteran support at the local level, even when national oversight is weak.

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8. Build and Rely on Grassroots Networks

Large veteran organizations at the national level often fail to protect veterans from predatory colleges. Veterans are better served by:

• Local veteran groups that are independent and community-based

• Direct peer networks of fellow veterans who have attended the schools you’re considering

• Public libraries, grassroots councils, and smaller veteran meetups not tied to corporate or political funding

• Sharing experiences through independent media when official channels fail

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Protect Yourself, Protect Others

Veterans have long been targeted by predatory colleges because their GI Bill benefits represent guaranteed federal money. DOD, VA, and large national veteran groups have too often enabled this exploitation.

The best defense is independent evidence, grassroots testimony, and investigative journalism. By asking hard questions, demanding transparency, and supporting one another at the local level, veterans can avoid the traps that continue to ensnare far too many.

For those who have been targeted and preyed upon, please consider joining the Facebook group, Restore GI Bill for Veterans.  

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Sources:

• Military Times: 8 Tips to Help Vets Pick the Right College (2018)

• Higher Education Inquirer – DOD coverage

• Higher Education Inquirer – VA coverage

• U.S. Department of Education, College Scorecard & IPEDS

• State Attorney General enforcement actions & FTC press releases

Trump's War on Reality

The second Trump administration has unleashed a coordinated assault on reality itself—an effort that extends far beyond policy disagreements into the realm of deliberate gaslighting. Agency by agency, Trump’s lieutenants are reshaping facts, science, and language to consolidate power. Many of these figures, despite their populist rhetoric, come from elite universities, corporate boardrooms, or dynastic wealth. Their campaign is not just about dismantling government—it’s about erasing the ground truth that ordinary people rely on.

Department of State → Department of War

One of the starkest shifts has been renaming the State Department the “Department of War.” This rhetorical change signals the administration’s embrace of permanent conflict as strategy. Secretary Pete Hegseth, a Princeton graduate and former hedge fund executive, embodies the contradiction: Ivy League polish combined with cable-news bravado. Under his watch, diplomacy is downgraded, alliances undermined, and propaganda elevated to policy.

Department of Defense

The Pentagon has been retooled into a megaphone for Trump’s narrative that America is perpetually under siege. Despite the promise of “America First,” decisions consistently empower China and Russia by destabilizing traditional alliances. The irony: many of the architects of this policy cut their teeth at elite think tanks funded by the same defense contractors now profiting from chaos.

Department of Education

Trump’s appointees have doubled down on dismantling federal oversight, echoing the administration’s hostility to “woke indoctrination.” Yet the leaders spearheading this push often come from private prep schools and elite universities themselves. They know the value of credentialism for their own children, while stripping protections and opportunities from working families.

Department of Justice

Justice has been weaponized into a tool of disinformation. Elite law school alumni now run campaigns against “deep state” prosecutors, while simultaneously eroding safeguards against corruption. The result is a justice system where truth is malleable, determined not by evidence but by loyalty.

Department of Health and Human Services

Public health has been subsumed into culture war theatrics. Scientific consensus on climate, vaccines, and long-term health research is dismissed as partisan propaganda. Yet many of the leaders driving this narrative hail from institutions like Harvard and Stanford, where they once benefited from cutting-edge science, they now ridicule.

Environmental Protection Agency

The EPA has become the Environmental Pollution Agency, rolling back rules while gaslighting the public with claims of “cleaner air than ever.” Appointees often come directly from corporate law firms representing Big Oil and Big Coal, cloaking extractive capitalism in the language of freedom.

Department of Labor

Workers are told they are winning even as wages stagnate and union protections collapse. The elites orchestrating this rollback frequently hold MBAs from Wharton or Harvard Business School. They speak the language of “opportunity” while overseeing the erosion of worker rights and benefits.

Department of Homeland Security

Reality itself is policed here, where dissent is rebranded as domestic extremism. Elite operatives with ties to intelligence contractors enforce surveillance on ordinary Americans, while elite families enjoy immunity from scrutiny.

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The Elite Architecture of Gaslighting

What unites these agencies is not just Trump’s directives, but the pedigree of the people carrying them out. Far from being the populist outsiders they claim to be, many hail from Ivy League schools, white-shoe law firms, or Fortune 500 boardrooms. They weaponize their privilege to convince the public that up is down, war is peace and lies are truth.

The war on reality is not a sideshow—it is the central project of this administration. For elites, it is a way to entrench their power. For the rest of us, it means living in a hall of mirrors where truth is constantly rewritten, and democracy itself hangs in the balance.

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Sources

• New York Times, Trump’s Cabinet and Their Elite Connections

• Washington Post, How Trump Loyalists Are Reshaping Federal Agencies

• Politico, The Ivy League Populists of Trump’s Inner Circle

• ProPublica, Trump Administration’s Conflicts of Interest

• Brookings Institution, Trump’s Assault on the Administrative State

• Center for American Progress, Gaslighting the Public: Trump’s War on Facts

Google, Your Data, and the Debt You Didn’t Know You Owed (Glen McGhee)

Google is everywhere. Search, Maps, YouTube—they make life convenient and seem “free.” But convenience comes at a price: your behavioral data. Every click, pause, search, or location check generates a digital footprint that Google collects, analyzes, and sells.

This isn’t just data collection—it’s what Shoshana Zuboff calls behavioral surplus: data that goes beyond what’s needed to provide the service itself. Google doesn’t just need to know what you search; it wants your location patterns, click habits, watch time, and every little action that can predict what you might do next. That surplus becomes a commodity, sold to advertisers and used to train AI systems that keep you engaged—and profitable—without your permission or compensation.

What “Data Debt” Means for You

Think of it like this: every time you interact with Google, you’re contributing to a kind of informational debt. Unlike a normal loan, this debt is infinite and unpayable. You can’t erase your search history, reclaim your behavioral profile, or get paid for the value you generate.

Here’s how it affects you:

1. You’re Paying With More Than Money
   Your data is the real currency. That “free” Google Maps route? Paid for with your personal information, every time you move, click, or linger on a page.

2. You Can’t Opt Out
   Google and similar platforms are now essential infrastructure. Avoiding them often means social or professional exclusion. You’re effectively forced into the system to live a connected life.

3. More Companies Have Access to Your Data
   Recent antitrust rulings require Google to share some data with competitors. Instead of reducing extraction, this spreads your data around, giving multiple companies the ability to profit from your behavior.

4. You Get No Ownership or Share of Profits
   Unlike college athletes who can monetize their Name, Image, and Likeness (NIL), most of us generate value for Google with no control, no claim, and no legal recourse. You’re a perpetual unpaid shareholder in a company that never pays dividends.

5. Privacy Is Your Job
   The system shifts responsibility onto you. You have to manage settings, use privacy tools, and track policies—all while the structural extraction continues.

Why This Matters

This is not just about annoying ads or targeted videos. It’s about power. Google, and other platforms like it, are essentially operating as all-powerful debtors. They take your data, turn it into profit, and owe you nothing. Meanwhile, the system is structured so that you can’t negotiate, limit, or reclaim what’s taken.

The rare exceptions—like NIL rights for college athletes—show how unusual it is for people to profit from their own data. For the rest of us, extraction without reciprocity is the rule, not the exception.

What You Can Do

• Be conscious of your digital footprint: Every app, click, and interaction is part of your behavioral surplus.

• Use privacy tools: VPNs, ad blockers, and encrypted services can limit some collection.

• Advocate for structural change: Laws and regulations that return ownership or compensation for data are the only way to address the systemic imbalance.

• Support alternatives: Platforms that share revenue with users or operate without surveillance models are small but growing options.

The key takeaway: your data is valuable, and right now, you’re the unpaid creditor. Understanding the stakes is the first step toward regaining some control—or at least knowing what you’re giving away.

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Sources

• Shoshana Zuboff, The Age of Surveillance Capitalism, PublicAffairs, 2019.

• Maurizio Lazzarato, The Making of the Indebted Man, Semiotext(e), 2012.

• Cory Doctorow, “Unpunishing Process,” Pluralistic.net, September 3, 2025. https://pluralistic.net/2025/09/03/unpunishing-process/

• U.S. District Court for the District of Columbia, United States v. Google LLC, antitrust ruling, 2025.

• NPR, “What NIL Rights Mean for College Athletes,” 2023.

The Minimum Viable Education System: How Close Are We to Collapse? (Glen McGhee)

For years, higher education leaders have avoided one of the most uncomfortable questions in the field: What is the minimum threshold of authentic learning required to keep the system operational? That threshold exists — and recent data suggest we may have already crossed it. The warning signs are visible in eroding public trust, declining employer confidence, and a growing inability to authenticate credentials. What we are watching now is not a temporary disruption, but the managed decline of mass higher education as we have known it.

A truly viable education system has to deliver four essential functions. It must transmit knowledge — not only basic literacy, numeracy, and critical thinking, but also the domain-specific skills employers recognize, along with the ability to evaluate information in a democratic society. It must authenticate credentials by verifying learner identity, ensuring assessments are legitimate, maintaining tamper-proof records, and clearly differentiating between levels of competence. It must serve as a pathway for social mobility, providing economic opportunities that justify the investment, generating real wage premiums, and fostering professional networks and cultural capital. And it must have reliable quality assurance, with competent faculty, relevant curriculum, trustworthy measurement of learning outcomes, and external accountability strong enough to maintain standards.

Research into institutional collapse and critical mass theory shows that each of these functions has a minimum operational threshold. The authentic learning rate must exceed 70 percent for degrees to retain their signaling value. Below that point, employers begin to see the credential itself as unreliable. Estimates today range from 30 to 70 percent, depending on the institution and delivery method. Employer confidence must stay above 80 percent for degrees to remain the default hiring credential. When fewer than eight in ten employers trust the degree signal, alternative credentialing accelerates — something already underway as skills-based hiring spreads across industries. Public trust must also remain high, but Gallup’s 2023 data put confidence in higher education at just 36 percent, far below the survival threshold. On the financial side, stability is eroding, with roughly 15 percent of U.S. institutions at risk of closure and more failing each year.

Despite these trends, parts of the system still function effectively. Elite institutions with rigorous admissions, strong alumni networks, and powerful employer relationships continue to maintain credibility. Professional programs such as medicine, engineering, and law retain integrity through external licensing and oversight. Technical programs tied closely to industry needs still provide authenticated learning with direct employment pathways. Research universities at the graduate level preserve rigor through peer review, publication requirements, and close faculty mentorship. These pockets of quality create the illusion that the overall system remains sound, even as large portions hollow out.

But the cracks are widening. Public trust is at 36 percent. Fraud rates are climbing beyond detection capacity, with California’s rate estimated at 31 percent. Grade inflation is erasing distinctions between levels of achievement. Authentic learning appears to be hovering somewhere between 30 and 70 percent, putting the system in a yellow warning zone. Financially, the sector remains unstable, with 15 percent of institutions on the brink.

Higher education is also becoming sharply stratified. At one end are the high-integrity institutions that still maintain meaningful standards, a group that may represent just 20 to 30 percent of the market. In the middle are the credential mills — low-integrity schools operating on volume with minimal quality control, perhaps 40 to 50 percent of the market. On the other end, alternative providers such as bootcamps, apprenticeships, and corporate academies are rapidly filling the skills gap. This stratification allows the system to stagger forward while its core mission erodes.

Collapse becomes irreversible when several failure points converge. Employer confidence dropping below 50 percent would trigger mass abandonment of degree requirements. Public funding cuts, fueled by political backlash, would intensify. Alternative credentials would reach critical mass, making traditional degrees redundant in many sectors. A faculty exodus would leave too few qualified instructors to maintain quality. Rising student debt defaults could force the federal government to restrict lending.

The available evidence suggests the tipping point likely occurred sometime between 2020 and 2024. That was when public trust cratered, employer skepticism intensified, financial fragility spread, and the post-pandemic environment made fraud and grade inflation harder to contain. We may already be living in a post-viable higher education system, one where authentic learning and meaningful credentialing are concentrated in a shrinking group of elite institutions, while the majority of the sector operates as a credentialing fiction.

The question now is whether the surviving components can reorganize into something sustainable before the entire system’s legitimacy evaporates. Without deliberate restructuring, higher education’s role as a public good will vanish, replaced by a marketplace of unreliable credentials and narrowing opportunities. The longer we avoid defining the collapse threshold, the harder it will be to stop the slide.

Sources: Gallup, Inside Higher Ed, BestColleges, Cato Institute, PMC (National Center for Biotechnology Information), Council on Foreign Relations