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Friday, July 11, 2025

As the Wealth Gap Widens, Executive Security Spending Surges

As economic inequality intensifies in the United States, corporate leaders are allocating more resources to personal security. CEOs, board members, and high-ranking executives in multiple sectors—including healthcare, tech, logistics, finance, and higher education—are investing in expanded protective measures in response to growing public anger and incidents like the 2024 assassination of UnitedHealthcare CEO Brian Thompson by Luigi Mangione.

In 2023, Meta Platforms spent $14 million on CEO Mark Zuckerberg’s personal security. Alphabet spent $5.9 million, Amazon reported $1.6 million, and JPMorgan Chase allocated $1.2 million for CEO protection, according to public filings with the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC). These expenditures have risen steadily in recent years. The Institute for Policy Studies reports an 11 percent increase in executive security costs among the top 500 U.S. firms between 2021 and 2023.

The killing of Thompson in December 2024 catalyzed a wave of security upgrades. According to Business Insider, 40 UnitedHealthcare executives hired bodyguards, relocated, or altered travel routines. UnitedHealth later disclosed $1.7 million in new executive security costs, according to STAT News. Analysts and security firms have since labeled the trend the “Luigi effect.”

These developments are not confined to healthcare. Energy, retail, agriculture, and higher education executives are also responding to rising threats—many rooted in public dissatisfaction over price inflation, labor exploitation, and environmental degradation. In higher education, university presidents have increased security in response to student debt protests and adjunct faculty organizing. In logistics, following union drives and layoffs at UPS and Amazon, senior officials enhanced security at warehouses and corporate campuses.

These actions are occurring in a regulatory environment that has shifted in favor of corporate consolidation. The Federal Trade Commission (FTC), under financial and political pressure, has seen a reduction in staffing and enforcement capacity. According to the FTC’s FY2024 budget report, the agency operated with fewer than 1,100 full-time employees—a 20 percent decline from a decade earlier. Congressional budget cuts and increased legal challenges from corporations have further limited the FTC’s ability to investigate and block mergers, enforce antitrust laws, or monitor deceptive corporate practices.

This decline in federal oversight has emboldened monopolistic behavior across industries. It has also allowed firms to suppress labor rights, raise prices, and consolidate control—actions that contribute directly to the growing frustration among workers and consumers. With weakened regulatory agencies and stagnant wages, the perception of impunity among corporate elites has only sharpened public resentment.

The Higher Education Inquirer affirms its commitment to nonviolence. Acts like those carried out by Luigi Mangione are not acceptable responses to injustice. But his case has become a symbolic reference point, signaling how far some individuals may go when democratic tools of accountability are weakened. Escalating security budgets are not just a reaction to individual threats—they are a measurable indicator of social distrust and institutional breakdown.

The solution is not fortification, but reform. Corporate leaders have an opportunity to respond by narrowing executive compensation gaps, supporting collective bargaining, addressing climate and public health impacts, and reducing their influence over regulatory systems. The FTC’s decline is a structural signal, just like the rise in CEO security costs. Both reveal a system drifting further from democratic accountability.

The path forward must be shaped by transparency, public policy, and peaceful resistance. If not, the costs—financial, social, and moral—will continue to rise.

Sources

  • U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) Proxy Filings: Meta (2023), Amazon (2023), Alphabet (2023), JPMorgan Chase (2023)

  • Business Insider. “UnitedHealthcare Execs Hired Bodyguards After CEO’s Killing.” June 2025

  • STAT News. “UnitedHealth Discloses $1.7 Million in Security Costs Post-Murder.” April 2025

  • Institute for Policy Studies. Executive Excess 2023

  • Federal Trade Commission. “Fiscal Year 2024 Congressional Budget Justification.” https://www.ftc.gov

  • Economic Policy Institute. “CEO Pay Has Grown 1,209% Since 1978.” 2023

  • Pew Research Center. “Public Trust in Institutions, 2023”

  • Chronicle of Higher Education. “Presidents Increase Security Amid Campus Protests.” 2024

  • New York Post. “Executives Rush to Boost Security in Wake of ‘Luigi Effect’.” May 2025

Thursday, July 10, 2025

Southern New Hampshire University Layoffs: Cold Emails, Broken Promises, and the Slow Unraveling of America’s Largest Robocollege

Southern New Hampshire University (SNHU), once the darling of online education reformers and a favorite of the Obama administration, continues its quiet but relentless shedding of human labor. On Friday, June 27, 2025, roughly 60 employees were laid off without warning—no calls, no meetings, no human connection. Just a cold, impersonal email from new president Lisa Marsh Ryerson.

“There was no sincerity,” said one source familiar with the layoffs. “No real communication. Just a robotic email. No opportunity for questions, no acknowledgment of people’s service.”

This latest layoff is the third major reduction in force since 2023. And while the numbers may seem modest for an institution that claims to serve more than 160,000 students, the ripple effects are anything but small. They confirm a broader trend that SNHU insiders have been warning about for months: a once-praised institution is hollowing itself out in silence.
 
A University Without a Soul?

The June 27 layoffs, like those before them, were handled with stunning disregard for the people who built and maintained the university’s infrastructure. Staff across departments described the news as “dehumanizing,” “cold,” and “contrary to everything SNHU claims to value.” No information was provided about who was let go or why. And as of this writing, SNHU has offered no public acknowledgment.

This is the same university that advertises itself as “student-centered,” “innovative,” and “empathetic.” It appears those values stop at the edge of the marketing department.

“They preach empathy to students,” one employee noted. “But when it came to their own staff, there was none.”
 
The Robocollege Paradox

SNHU’s rise to prominence was driven by two powerful forces: automation and marketing. Often described by critics as “America’s largest robocollege,” SNHU relies on heavily automated instructional systems, pre-scripted faculty responses, and templated course shells. More than 8,000 part-time instructors serve a student body of mostly remote learners—while just 130 full-time instructors remain.

The result is a system that mimics personalization at scale, but often delivers an education that is generic, repetitive, and impersonal. Now, it seems, the internal culture is mirroring that very structure: efficient, indifferent, and inhumane.

In recent months, students have also begun to complain—about outdated materials, recycled syllabi, and lackluster engagement from instructors who are stretched thin and closely monitored. Meanwhile, internal critics point to a bloated administration where promotions are tied to personal loyalty rather than competence, and where technical expertise is often sidelined in favor of political convenience.
 
New President, Same Old Playbook

Lisa Marsh Ryerson’s appointment as SNHU’s new president was seen by some as a chance for renewal. A respected nonprofit leader and former head of AARP Foundation, Ryerson was expected to bring transparency, vision, and accountability. But her first major act—a mass layoff delivered by email—suggests a continuation of the old regime’s worst habits.

Under her predecessor Paul LeBlanc, SNHU transformed from a small regional college to a billion-dollar online giant. But that transformation was not without costs: overreliance on adjuncts, erosion of curriculum quality, and a growing divide between leadership and labor.

Ryerson’s June email—void of any opportunity for dialogue or recognition—has raised questions about whether her presidency will offer anything different, or whether SNHU’s machine-like management culture is simply too entrenched.
 
A Warning to the Sector

What’s happening at SNHU is not unique, but it is instructive. As more universities turn to online models and data-driven scalability, the human core of education is being sacrificed. Staff are seen as expendable. Adjuncts are interchangeable. And students are increasingly treated as customers rather than learners.

In this environment, SNHU has become both a symbol of possibility and a cautionary tale: a nonprofit that operates like a for-profit, with all the social costs but none of the public accountability.

The Higher Education Inquirer has been tracking SNHU’s internal crises for months:

Sept. 27, 2024: America’s Largest Robocollege Facing Resistance from Human Workers and Student Complaints About Curriculum

June 27, 2025: Layoffs at Southern New Hampshire University

These are not isolated events. They are part of a long-term unraveling of an institution that once promised transformation—but now seems trapped in its own machinery.

We will continue to report on SNHU and invite current and former employees, students, and stakeholders to share their experiences confidentially. You are not alone.

If you work at SNHU or have insider knowledge, contact the Higher Education Inquirer at gmcghee@aya.yale.edu.  All correspondence will be kept confidential.  

Academic closures, mergers, cuts: a summer 2025 update (Bryan Alexander)

Greetings from early July. I’m back home in northern Virginia where the heat is blazing and the humidity sopping.  Weather.com thinks it “feels like 102° F” and I agree.  The cats also agree, because they retreated elegantly inside to air conditioning after a brief outside stroll.

I wrote “back home” because my wife and I spent last week celebrating our 32nd anniversary in Canada (here’s one snapshot).  Afterwards I was hoping to get back into the swing of things, blogging, Substacking, vlogging various topics already under way, but things have been advancing at such a manic pace that I have to leap in in a hurry.

Case in point: after blogging about campus closures, cuts, and mergers last month more closures and cuts (albeit no mergers) have appeared in just the past few weeks.  In this post you’ll see a list of these, with links to supporting news stories and official documents.  Alas, this has become a tradition on this site.  (From last year: March 1March 20March 28AprilMayJuneJulySeptemberNovember. From this year: FebruaryJune.) My book on peak higher education is now in the editing process; hopefully by the time it appears the topic won’t be simply historical.

Today we’ll touch on one closure, then focus on cuts, with a few reflections at the end.

1. Closing colleges and universities

In Michigan Siena Heights University (Catholic) will close after the upcoming academic year.  The reasons: “the financial situation, operational challenges, and long-term sustainability,” according to the official statement.  A local account concurs, “citing rising costs and stiffer competition for new students.”

Siena Heights website

The official website doesn’t reflect this on its front page.

2. Program and staffing cuts

Also in Michigan, Concordia University (Lutheran) is shutting down most of its Ann Arbor campus programs. A much smaller set of offerings is what’s next:

Starting June 2025, the private Lutheran institution will offer just nine programs — all in medical-related fields — on its physical campus. That’s down from 53 campus programs the university currently lists on its website. It will offer another seven online programs, mostly in education fields, which is down from more than 60 currently.

Also nearby, Michigan State University (public, research) announced its intention to cut faculty and staff positions this year.  The drivers: inflation boosting costs, especially in health care; Trump administration research funding cuts; possible state support cuts; potential international student reduction.

Brown University (research; Rhode Island) is planning to cut an unspecified number of staff this summer.  Furthermore, “[a]dditional measures include scaling back capital spending and adjusting graduate admissions levels after limiting budget growth for doctoral programs earlier this year.”  The reasons here are financial, but based on the Trump administration’s cuts to federal research funding, not enrollment problems.

The Indiana Commission for Higher Education announced shutting down a huge sweep of academic programs across that state’s public universities.  More than 400 degrees will end, with 75 ended outright and 333 “merged or consolidated” with other programs.  The whole list is staggering.  There’s a lot of detail in that Indiana plan, from defining student minima to establishing various options for campuses, appealing closures to timelines for revving up new degrees.  It’s unclear how many faculty and/or staff cuts will follow.

Columbia College Chicago (private, arts focused) laid off twenty full-time professors.  The school is facing enrollment declines and financial problems. Nearly all of these faculty member are – were – tenure track, which makes this another example of the queen sacrifice.

University of California-Santa Cruz (public, research) is terminating its German and Persian language programs, laying off their instructors.  This sounds part of a broader effort to cut costs against a deficit, a deficit caused by “rising labor costs and constrained student enrollment growth,” according to officials.

Boston University (private, research) announced it would lay off 120 staff members as part of a budget-cutting strategy. BU will also close 120 open staff positions and “around 20 positions will undergo a change in schedule” (I’m not sure what that means – shift from full time to part?).    The reasons: Trump administration cuts and uncertainty, plus the longstanding issues of “rising inflation, changing demographics, declining graduate enrollment, and the need to adapt to new technologies.”

The president of Temple University (public, research, Pennsylvania) discussed job cuts as part of a 5% budget cut.  Reasons include lower enrollment which led to “a structural deficit [for which] university reserves were used to cover expenses.”

Champlain College (Vermont) is closing some low-enrolling majors. The avowed goal is to
“design a new ‘career-focused’ curriculum for the fall of 2026 ‘that is focused on and driven by employer needs and student interests.'”

The accounting program, for instance, saw its enrollment decline from 60 students in 2015 to 20 in February 2024, according to documents from the school’s Academic Affairs Committee. The law program, similarly, had little student interest, Hernandez said, and had only three students apply in the fall of 2023, while the data analytics program had only two applications.

At the same time the school is facing serious challenges.  Enrollment has sunk from 4,778 students in 2016 to 3,200 last year.  The college ran deficits in some reason years and a federal audit criticized the amount of debt it carries.  This year “the college’s bond rating was lowered, and its outlook downgraded to ‘negative’ by S&P Global Ratings.”

Lake Champlain sky 2017

Looking across the lake from Burlington, near Champlain’s campus back in 2017: a cheery image to balance sad stories.

A small but symbolic cut is under way at Albright College (private, liberal arts, Pennsylvania), whose president decided to sell their art college at auction.  “It includes pieces by Karel Appel, Romare Bearden, Robert Colescott, Bridget Riley, Leon Golub, Jasper Johns, Jacob Lawrence, Marisol, Gordon Parks, Jesús Rafael Soto and Frederick Eversley, among others.”

Why do this?  according to the administration, it was a question of relative value:

“We needed to stop the bleeding,” says James Gaddy, vice-president for administration at Albright, noting that over the past two years the college has experienced shortfalls of $20m. Calling himself and the college’s president Debra Townsley, both of whom were hired last year, “turn-around specialists”, Gaddy claimed that Albright’s 2,300-object art collection was “not core to our mission” as an educational institution and was costing the college more than the art is worth.

“The value of the artworks is not extraordinary,” he says, estimating the total value of the pieces consigned to Pook & Pook at $200,000, but claimed that the cost of maintaining the collection was high and that the cost of staffing the art gallery where the objects were displayed and (mostly) stored was “more than half a million dollars” a year.

Albright College art collection auction screenshot

A screenshot of some of the auction lots.

3 Budget crises, programs cut, not laying off people yet

Cornell University is preparing staff cuts in the wake of Trump administration research funding reductions.

The University of Minnesota’s administration agreed to a 7.5% cut across its units, along with a tuition increase.  The president cited frozen state support and rising costs.

New York University (NYU) announced a 3% budget cut.  So far this is about “emphasizing cuts to such functions as travel, events, meals, and additional other-than-personal-service (OTPS) items.” NYU will keep on not hiring new administrators and is encouraging some administrators and tenured professors to retire.

Yale University paused ten ongoing construction projects because of concerns about cuts to federal monies.

Reflections

Many of these stories reflect trends I’ve been observing for a while.  Declining enrollment is a major problem for most institutions. The strategy of cutting jobs to balance a budget remains one at least some leaders find useful. The humanities tend to suffer more cuts than others (scroll down the Indiana pdf for a sample). Depending on the state, state governments can increase budget problems or alter academic program offerings.

The second Trump administration’s campaign against higher education is drawing blood, as we can see from universities citing the federal research cuts in their budgets and personnel decisions. Note that this is before the One Big Beautiful Bill Act’s provisions take hold, from capping student aid to increasing endowment taxes. And this is also before whatever decrease will appear with international student enrollment this fall. (Here’s my video series on Trump vs higher ed; new episode is in the pipeline.)

Note the number of elite institutions in today’s post.  In the past I’ve been told that the closures, mergers, and cuts primarily hit low-ranked and marginal institutions, which was sometimes true. But now we’re seeing top tier universities enacting budget cuts, thanks to the Trump administration.

Let me close by reminding everyone that these are human stories. Program cuts hurt students’ course of student. Budget cuts impact instructors and staff of all kinds. When we see the statistics pile up we can lose sight of the personal reality.  My heart goes out to everyone injured by these institutional moves.

Finally, I’d like to invite anyone with information on a college or university’s plans to close, merge, or cut to share them with me, either as comments on this post, as notes on social media, or by contacting me privately here.  I write these posts based largely on public, open intelligence (news reports, investigations, roundups) but also through tips, since higher education sometimes has issues with transparency.  We need better information on these events.

(thanks to Will Emerson, Karl Hakkarainen, Kristen NyhtCristián Opazo, Peter Shea, Jason Siko, George Station, Nancy Smyth, Ed Webb, and Andrew Zubiri for supplying links and feedback)

This article first appeared at bryanalexander.org

“Dream School” vs. Harsh Realities: Comparing Jeff Selingo’s Hopeful Guide to the Critical Work of Gary Roth and Peter Cappelli

 Jeff Selingo’s Dream School: Finding the College That’s Right for You arrives this September with an uplifting premise: students and families can reframe their college search by looking beyond brand-name schools and toward institutions that truly match their needs, values, and goals. It’s a hopeful, user-friendly guidebook for navigating a system in crisis.

But how does this vision compare to more critical takes on higher education, like Gary Roth’s The Educated Underclass or Peter Cappelli’s Will College Pay Off? These books don’t offer roadmaps—they offer warnings.

Together, these three works highlight the gap between the dream of higher education and its troubling socioeconomic realities.

Jeff Selingo: Navigating Within the System

Selingo’s Dream School leans into optimism. Drawing on years of reporting and interviews, he offers practical tools to help families think more holistically about fit, outcomes, and experience. He acknowledges the pressures of student debt and market uncertainty, but ultimately believes that better choices can lead to better results. His book is about informed agency: using available resources to make strategic decisions in a system that still—despite its flaws—offers life-changing opportunities.

Importantly, Selingo writes for a very different audience than Roth or Cappelli. His core readers are middle- and upper-middle-class families, high school counselors, and education-minded parents who are already invested in the idea of college. His book is not a systemic critique—it’s a self-help manual for those trying to optimize their place within the system. He assumes readers have at least some cultural capital, if not financial capital, to navigate the process.

That contrasts sharply with Roth’s and Cappelli’s work, which more directly speaks to broader questions of inequality, economic risk, and the failure of higher education to deliver on its promises for the working class and lower-middle class.

Gary Roth: Education as Class Reproduction

Gary Roth’s The Educated Underclass: Students and the False Promise of Social Mobility tells a darker story. For Roth, the U.S. higher education system has become a mechanism for class reproduction, not mobility. Degrees no longer guarantee a middle-class life. Many graduates enter an economy saturated with credentialed labor and devalued degrees, especially in the humanities and social sciences. Roth argues that working-class and first-generation students are often funneled into less selective schools that provide limited return on investment while saddling them with debt.

Roth’s educated underclass is not a group of empowered dreamers, but of frustrated and underemployed degree-holders. His is a structural critique: the system is rigged to absorb ambition but deny reward. From that angle, Dream School could be seen as encouraging students to better decorate their cages, not escape them.

Peter Cappelli: A Risky Bet in a Shifting Market

Peter Cappelli’s Will College Pay Off? occupies a middle ground between Selingo’s optimism and Roth’s pessimism. Cappelli, a labor economist at the Wharton School, unpacks the complex relationship between degrees and economic outcomes. He emphasizes that some degrees from some institutions in some fields pay off—but the variability is enormous, and the risk increasingly falls on students and families.

Cappelli also warns that the job market is no longer tightly aligned with higher education. Employers want experience and specific skills, not just credentials. In this climate, college becomes a speculative investment with uncertain return, especially for students who choose the wrong major, drop out, or attend low-performing institutions.

Cappelli would likely agree with Selingo’s emphasis on “fit” and outcomes, but caution that even the best-laid plans can be undone by macroeconomic forces and institutional failures. His argument underscores the need for stronger public data, better advising, and more employer accountability.


Competing Visions of the College Experience

AuthorCore MessageSystemic CritiqueHope OfferedPrimary Audience
Jeff SelingoFind the school that fits you bestMildYes – through smarter choicesCollege-bound middle- and upper-middle-class families
Gary RothThe system reproduces inequalityStrongNo – the system is brokenWorking-class students, critical scholars
Peter CappelliCollege may or may not pay off – it’s a gambleModerateConditional – depends on strategy and luckPolicymakers, economists, pragmatic families

Final Thoughts: Hope, Strategy, or Exit?

Dream School provides an encouraging map for families still trying to believe in the American higher education promise. But Roth and Cappelli serve as stark reminders that the terrain is treacherous—and for many, the dream may already be out of reach.

Jeff Selingo offers hope within the system, assuming the reader has the resources to navigate it. Gary Roth questions the system’s core legitimacy. Peter Cappelli urges caution and calculation. Together, these authors paint a more complete picture of what college means in 21st-century America: a dream for some, a trap for others, and a high-stakes gamble for nearly everyone else.

Sources:
Jeff Selingo, Dream School (2025)
Gary Roth, The Educated Underclass (2020)
Peter Cappelli, Will College Pay Off? (2015)
National Center for Education Statistics, College Scorecard
Federal Reserve Bank reports on student debt and labor outcomes

I Did Everything Right. And I’m Still Paying for a Degree I Never Got (Chamberlain School of Nursing- Single Mom)

In 2010, I was a mom-to-be with one child already at home and a marriage quietly unraveling. I knew I had to secure a future for my children and myself. So, while pregnant with my second child, I made the leap and enrolled in nursing school. I borrowed around $30,000 in federal student loans to earn my associate degree in nursing, graduated, passed my boards, and began working immediately. For a while, things felt like they were on track.

By 2016, I was encouraged to advance my education and pursue my BSN. That’s when I heard about Chamberlain University. It sounded like the perfect fit — I was told I could finish in as little as six months, that I’d only pay one semester at a time, and that there would be no out-of-pocket costs. The admissions team made it sound like a streamlined path forward. It wasn’t.

Eighteen months later, I was nowhere near graduation, and my debt had ballooned by another $45,000, bringing my total student loan balance to $75,000 — and I still didn’t have a degree. Every time I asked how close I was to finishing, I was told “just another semester or two.” The promises felt endless, vague, and increasingly disheartening.

What’s worse: before I even began the program, I had emailed asking about credentialing in my state and clinical eligibility. The response I got was delayed and full of mixed messages. One advisor assured me they were “working through compliance,” but I was never given a definitive answer. That means I was never sure the clinicals I would complete — or the degree itself — would even be recognized by my state’s Board of Nursing. That ambiguity is one of many red flags I flagged in my Borrower Defense application.

By 2018, I had enough. I was exhausted by the emotional and financial toll and withdrew from the program just a few classes short of completing my BSN.

Since then, I’ve been steadily working as a nurse, raising my kids, and doing what so many borrowers do — making monthly payments while watching the interest grow faster than I could keep up. I never missed payments. I never defaulted. But it still didn’t feel like progress.

Then this year, I finally decided to buy a home — something I never thought possible as a single mom buried in debt. I was approved and in the final stages of closing. But when my lender pulled an updated credit report, a new collection for $1,115 had mysteriously appeared. It was from Chamberlain.

This debt had never shown up before. It wasn’t on my May report, but suddenly it showed up in June — just two months before it was scheduled to fall off my credit report entirely (August, 2025). With that, my mortgage approval was revoked.

I had the option to pay it off. But honestly? I couldn’t stomach paying another cent to a school that left me with no degree, unclear clinical credentials, and a mountain of debt. So I let the home go.

In the meantime, I’ve discovered resources I wish I’d known about years ago. I submitted an application for Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF) — something I assumed I wasn’t eligible for because I was on a standard repayment plan. But I’ve now been told I have 144 qualifying payments on my original loans and around 70 qualifying months on the second set tied to Chamberlain. I'm now working on certifying my employment to formalize that progress. One where I have had 10, yes 10 failed submissions due to silly clerical errors.

I also submitted a Borrower Defense to Repayment application — twice. The first time, I felt unsure. The second time, I attached emails and evidence showing the misleading guidance, false promises about timelines and costs, and unclear accreditation issues. I now believe my application is materially complete, without any assurances or timeline. Promises from others shared experiences that this process will in fact take me years if not decades. With no legal representation, or protections like the earlier class action members. Feeling alone, and kind of like a loser. I just wish I had known about it sooner.

I know my case might be denied. I know this might take months — or years- or decades. But I’m not giving up. Because this isn’t just my story. It’s the story of so many of us who tried to do everything right… and are still paying for it.

The Truth About Degrees, Debt, and Why You’re Always Chasing the Next Credential (Glen McGhee)

A System Designed to Keep You in Debt

If you're in college right now, you’ve probably heard that getting a degree is the key to success. But have you noticed something strange? Everyone seems to need more and more education just to get the same kinds of jobs. A high school diploma used to be enough. Then it was a bachelor’s degree. Now people need master’s degrees—and still struggle to get hired.

Meanwhile, tuition keeps going up. Student debt in the U.S. has reached over $1.7 trillion, affecting more than 43 million people. Many of us are borrowing tens of thousands of dollars just to get a shot at a decent job. Some never escape this debt, even decades later.

This isn't just bad luck. It's a system, and it works really well—for banks, employers, and universities. But not for you.

Credentials Are the New Chains

A few critical thinkers—like economist Michael Hudson and philosopher Maurizio Lazzarato—have a name for what’s happening: debt peonage. That’s a fancy way of saying people are trapped in endless debt, not because they’re lazy or irresponsible, but because the system is built to keep them there.

They argue that education has been turned into a machine for generating debt. It’s not just about learning anymore—it’s about taking on loans you’ll be paying off for decades, often for jobs that don’t even require the degree you earned.

This debt doesn’t just affect your bank account—it shapes your whole life. It influences the jobs you take, how much you’re paid, whether you can move, start a family, or speak up at work. In other words, debt is a tool of control.

More School, More Debt, Less Power

There’s a name for what's happening with degrees: credential inflation. It means that as more people earn degrees, employers keep raising the bar—asking for more education, even if the job doesn’t really need it.

This works out great for employers. You need the job to pay off your loans. You’re less likely to ask for higher wages or better conditions. You’re easier to control. Think about it. When you owe $38,000 in student loans, can you really afford to quit your job? Or turn down unpaid internships? Or fight back when you’re treated unfairly?

That’s not a bug in the system—it’s the point.

The Rise of the Academic Underclass

It doesn’t stop with students. Many of your professors and TAs are also part of what we might call the academic precariat—people with master’s or even PhDs who are stuck working part-time for low pay, no benefits, and no job security.

These are the folks who teach your classes, grade your papers, and write your recommendation letters—while living paycheck to paycheck and often on government assistance. They’re the most educated people in the country—and many of them can’t afford basic needs.

Why does this happen? Because colleges don’t have to pay them fairly. There are more PhDs than full-time teaching jobs, so universities keep a huge pool of low-paid instructors they can use whenever they want. That’s called a “standing reserve” of labor—and it's incredibly profitable for institutions.

The Internship Trap

And then there are unpaid internships—another form of credential inflation. Now, just having a degree isn’t enough. You also need “experience.” But that experience is often unpaid, meaning students (and their families) cover the cost of working for free.

This second wave of credential inflation hits working-class students hardest. Many can’t afford to work unpaid jobs, pay rent, and take classes at the same time. So the system ends up rewarding privilege and punishing struggle—again.

And here’s the kicker: unpaid interns often don’t even get jobs. Studies show people who never interned sometimes do just as well—or better.

Is There Another Way?

You might be thinking: but aren’t degrees still worth it? Isn’t this just the way things work?

That’s exactly what the system wants you to believe. And while it’s true that some education leads to better job outcomes, it’s also true that the cost is rising faster than the benefit. And the system is rigged to keep you in debt no matter what.

So what can we do? First, question the system, not yourself. If you’re overwhelmed by debt or struggling to find a job, you’re not failing—the system is. Second, recognize that individual solutions—like working harder, studying longer, or networking more—won’t fix a structural problem. What we’re facing is a system that uses debt to control, not to educate.

Final Thought

Degrees should be tools for empowerment, not chains of obligation. But as long as education is tied to debt, exploitation, and ever-escalating credential requirements, it will remain part of a system designed to extract—not uplift.

It’s time to stop asking how can I survive this system and start asking why does this system exist at all?

EdTech on Reddit: A View from the Ground Floor

On the surface, the education technology sector still markets itself as innovative, exciting, and essential. But a closer look at one of the most active online forums for education technology professionals—Reddit’s r/edtech—reveals something more conflicted. Beneath the surface hype, professionals, educators, and developers are wrestling with deep questions about impact, sustainability, and purpose. 

One particularly candid thread titled “EdTech is booming, but are we actually solving real problems?” captures the contradictions at the heart of the industry. The discussion, which you can find here, begins with a deceptively simple question that cuts to the core of the field’s current identity crisis.

The post's author reflects on the fast-paced expansion of edtech platforms and tools, especially after the COVID-19 pandemic. They point to the increasing ease of starting a company, accessing AI tools, and attracting seed funding, while simultaneously questioning whether these efforts are genuinely improving learning or merely adding noise to an already crowded ecosystem. They ask whether these tools are addressing core issues or simply automating what doesn’t need to be automated.

The responses are both candid and sobering. One veteran of the industry responded bluntly: “Edtech is not booming and has never really been about the ‘real problems.’ It's always been about money and profits over learning outcomes.” That comment received widespread agreement and set the tone for a critical conversation. Others pointed out the industry’s cyclical nature. “Edtech got very drunk on COVID,” said one user. “It drove a huge surge in valuations, but edtech seems committed to these boom/bust cycles every 7–12 years.” The market hype rarely aligns with long-term adoption, and the collapse of post-pandemic funding has only exacerbated this disconnect.

Some posters argued that edtech remains a “vitamin” instead of a “painkiller”—in other words, a nice-to-have rather than a must-have. Others expressed frustration that edtech often duplicates traditional classroom experiences without improving them. One user described much of the industry as “PowerPoint with lipstick.”

Another major theme is the shift in purchasing power and institutional demand. While startups chase direct-to-consumer models or try to sell to companies, the bulk of the market remains in K–12 and higher education institutions. These institutions are now facing budget cuts and reduced federal COVID-era funding. One teacher noted that “schools have less funding and are becoming more risk averse,” making it even harder for edtech startups to gain traction unless they solve very specific problems.

Some edtech insiders also weighed in. A sales representative commented that tools not tied to curriculum—particularly safety and administration tools—are the only ones gaining momentum. In other words, districts may still buy technology, but they’re buying it for infrastructure, not pedagogy. In a parallel conversation, another Redditor emphasized that much of the money is still on the hardware side: Chromebooks, security systems, and basic connectivity tools.

Meanwhile, generative AI remains a wild card. Several posters, including a college professor, described increased interest in AI-powered learning tools, but they also cautioned that few institutions have coherent strategies for integrating them into teaching. Hype continues to outpace effectiveness.

Other users expressed concern about how edtech firms are shaped by investor expectations. One pointed out that venture capital is trying to insert industrial design (ID) approaches into traditional education, often with harmful results. They argued that these approaches not only fail to improve outcomes but also deepen inequality and erode trust in public education.

If r/edtech is a canary in the coal mine, it’s one with a lot of sharp observations and few illusions. The subreddit is a space where industry insiders, educators, and skeptics hash out what’s working, what isn’t, and what’s broken. The consensus seems clear: most edtech products are not solving fundamental problems. The collapse of funding from the Elementary and Secondary School Emergency Relief (ESSER) funds has dried up easy wins. Products that do succeed tend to solve practical administrative problems, not pedagogical ones. Teachers, meanwhile, are being asked to adopt new tools without evidence that they help students learn or reduce their workload.

The Reddit forum serves as an unscripted, unfiltered pulse check on the edtech world. Unlike polished press releases or self-congratulatory conferences, r/edtech offers raw and sometimes painful truths. For researchers, journalists, and education leaders, the subreddit offers a vital look at what the field is thinking when no one is watching. In that sense, it may be one of the most honest barometers of education technology today.


Source:
“EdTech is booming, but are we actually solving real problems?” Reddit, June 2025.
https://www.reddit.com/r/edtech/comments/1lu23y5/edtech_is_booming_but_are_we_actually_solving/

Wednesday, July 9, 2025

HBCUs and Alternative Programs Step Up for Students Affected by Job Corps Cuts

As federal budgetary constraints trigger widespread cuts to the Job Corps program, thousands of young Americans—many from low-income and marginalized backgrounds—are left in limbo, uncertain about their educational and career futures. In response, several Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) and nonprofit training organizations have stepped in to provide pathways forward for these displaced students.

Morris Brown College has emerged as a leader in this emergency response, inviting students affected by the Job Corps shutdowns to apply for admission and continue their education. The college is offering federal financial aid options to eligible students, making the transition more accessible. This initiative aligns with Morris Brown’s ongoing efforts to reestablish itself as a vital access point for underserved communities following its reaccreditation.

Jarvis Christian University and Wiley University, both HBCUs in Texas, have similarly opened their doors to Job Corps students. These institutions have long histories of serving first-generation college students and have extended their outreach to ensure that affected youth can find a welcoming academic home.

Winston-Salem State University in North Carolina is taking a more targeted approach. The university has secured a grant through the Job Corps Scholars program to provide tuition assistance and job training to a select group of students. This model blends academic instruction with practical skills development, creating an effective bridge between high school-level education and gainful employment.

Beyond the HBCU community, national service programs and workforce training initiatives are also mobilizing to fill the void. AmeriCorps offers job training, GED preparation, and education awards that can be used toward college tuition. YouthBuild provides at-risk youth with the opportunity to earn a high school diploma or equivalent while learning construction skills and receiving supportive services like housing assistance.

The Workforce Innovation and Opportunity Act (WIOA), a longstanding federal employment program, connects individuals with training and job placement assistance through local workforce boards. These WIOA programs are especially vital now, helping youth access industry-aligned credentialing programs.

For those looking to bypass traditional college pathways, apprenticeships and union-led training programs offer paid, on-the-job learning in skilled trades. These earn-as-you-learn models remain one of the most reliable routes to middle-class employment without taking on student loan debt.

The National Guard Youth ChalleNGe Program offers another alternative, particularly for students aged 16–18 who are seeking structure, discipline, and a chance to build job and life skills in a quasi-military setting.

Several private-sector and nonprofit initiatives are also stepping into the breach. Grow with Google provides free online certificates in tech-related fields such as data analytics and IT support. SkillsUSA supports students preparing for careers in technical and skilled service sectors, often in tandem with high school or community college programs.

Year Up is a standout nonprofit that offers professional training paired with paid internships in IT, software, and finance. It targets young adults who are not enrolled in school or working, providing a powerful pipeline into white-collar careers. Likewise, Urban Alliance provides internships, mentoring, and work readiness training to high school seniors in underserved communities.

The dismantling of Job Corps centers is a major setback for a federal program that has, for decades, helped vulnerable young people achieve educational and economic stability. But in the absence of federal leadership, community institutions—especially HBCUs—are proving their enduring value. They are not only preserving access to education and training but also strengthening the broader social safety net for America’s forgotten youth.

As this transition unfolds, students and families need to remain vigilant in researching legitimate programs while avoiding scams and predatory for-profit institutions. With thoughtful guidance and continued support, the displaced Job Corps students can still find opportunities to thrive, even in uncertain times.

Sources:
U.S. Department of Labor
Morris Brown College
Winston-Salem State University
AmeriCorps.gov
YouthBuild USA
SkillsUSA
Grow with Google
National Guard Youth ChalleNGe Program
Workforce Innovation and Opportunity Act
Year Up
Urban Alliance

Camp Mystic: A Century of Privilege, Exclusion, and Resilience Along the Guadalupe

Nestled along the banks of the Guadalupe River in Kerr County, Texas, Camp Mystic has been a summer rite of passage for generations of elite white girls since its founding in 1926. Created by University of Texas coach E.J. “Doc” Stewart, the camp was envisioned as a Christian retreat that mirrored its brother camp, Camp Stewart for boys. With a blend of outdoor adventure, spiritual practice, and deep-rooted tradition, Mystic became one of Texas’s most exclusive—and enduring—summer institutions.

At its core, Camp Mystic was always more than a camp. It functioned as a social filter, reinforcing class, race, and regional identity. Founded during the Jim Crow era, the camp operated within a system of de facto racial segregation. While no known documents explicitly stated that Black, Mexican American, or Indigenous girls were barred, the overwhelmingly white makeup of campers, counselors, and alumni for decades makes its exclusionary nature clear. Like many private institutions in the South, racial exclusion at Mystic was enforced through unspoken rules, legacy admissions, and the economic barriers of wealth and connection.

The legacy of that segregation lingers today. Camp Mystic remains a predominantly white, upper-class space. The cost of attendance alone is prohibitive to most. A single 30-day session now costs more than $4,300—often closer to $5,000 once flood-related infrastructure and safety fees are added. A $300 to $400 deposit is required up front, and most campers are enrolled years in advance, often the children and grandchildren of Mystic alumnae.

Over the decades, the camp has grown to encompass 725 acres of Texas Hill Country, including historic cypress cabins, a blufftop chapel, and a sprawling recreation hall. Campers are divided into two tribes—Kiowa and Tonkawa—borrowing names from Native peoples with no meaningful cultural ties. They compete in games, attend daily devotionals, and participate in long-standing rituals like Sunday fried chicken dinners and end-of-session vespers. Phones and electronic devices are banned, preserving an air of rustic purity and nostalgic Americana.

Mystic’s leadership has passed through generations of wealthy Texas families. After Stewart sold the camp in 1937, the Stacy family took over, maintaining control even during its World War II closure, when it was leased to the U.S. Army Air Corps as a convalescent facility. From 1948 to 1987, Inez and Frank Harrison—“Iney and Frank”—ran the camp with an old-school Christian ethos. The third-generation owners, Dick and Tweety Eastland, continued the tradition of preserving the camp’s conservative values and cultural uniformity.

The camp’s alumni list reads like a who’s who of Texas society. Laura Bush once served as a counselor. Children of governors, oil executives, and business magnates have long walked the same trails and sat at the same river’s edge. For many, Mystic is as much a symbol of legacy and identity as it is a summer destination.

And yet, the question lingers: what does it mean to sustain a place like Camp Mystic in the 21st century?

While many of its practices seem quaint or charming to supporters, others see a more troubling story—of a camp that has functioned as a training ground for white privilege, Christian nationalism, and cultural insulation. Its use of Native American tribal names, its refusal to modernize its traditions beyond symbolic gestures, and its high economic barrier to entry make it a time capsule of exclusion. Even now, diversity at Camp Mystic appears limited, its brochures and social media reflecting the same demographics it always has.

Today, as Texas faces widening inequality, increasing climate risks, and sharp political divides, Camp Mystic remains perched on a precarious edge—both literally and figuratively. It is a camp shaped by floods and fire, faith and legacy, and a deep belief in preserving “the way things used to be.”

For some, Camp Mystic represents a magical place of lifelong friendship, tradition, and spiritual growth. For others, it is a stark reminder of how privilege and exclusion are often disguised as nostalgia.

Sources:

Los Angeles Community College District Claims to Be Facing State Takeover Amid Allegations of Fraud and Censorship in LAVC Media Arts Department (LACCD Whistleblower)

The Los Angeles Community College District (LACCD) may be facing state takeover within two years due to overextended hiring and budget mismanagement, as discussed during a May 2025 meeting of the Los Angeles Valley College (LAVC) Academic Senate. Faculty warned that the looming financial crisis could result in mass layoffs—including tenured staff—and sweeping program cuts.

Start Minutes LAVC Academic Senate

“R. Christian-Brougham: other campuses have brand new presidents doing strange things. If we don’t do things differently as a district, from the mouth of the president in two years we’ll be bankrupt and go into negative.
 Chancellor has responsibility
C. Sustin  asks for confirmation that it is the Chancellor that can and should step in to curb campus budgets and hirings.
R. Christian-Brougham: the Chancellor bears responsibility, but in the takeover scenario, the Board of Trustees – all of them – would get fired
E. Perez: which happened in San Francisco
C. Sustin: hiring is in the purview of campuses, so they can’t directly determine job positions that move forward?
R. Christian-Brougham: Chancellor and BoT could step in and fire the Campus Presidents, though.
E. Perez: in next consultation with Chancellor, bringing this up.
C. Maddren: Gribbons is not sitting back; he’s acting laterally and going upward
E. Thornton: looping back to the example of City College of San Francisco: when the takeover happened there the reductions in force extended to multiple long-since-tenured members of a number of disciplines, including English. For this and so many other reasons, it was a reign of terror sort of situation. So we really need to push the Chancellor.”

End Minutes Academic Senate

https://go.boarddocs.com/ca/laccd/Board.nsf/vpublic?open#

The dire financial outlook comes as new scrutiny falls on LAVC’s Media Arts Department, already under fire for years of alleged fraud, resume fabrication, and manipulation of public perception. Central to these concerns is the department’s chair, Eric Swelstad, who also oversees a $40,000 Hollywood Foreign Press Association (Golden Globe) grant for LAVC students—a role now drawing sharp criticism in light of mounting questions about his credentials and conduct.

Over the past two months, a troubling wave of digital censorship has quietly erased years of documented allegations. In May 2025, nearly two years’ worth of investigative reporting—comprising emails, legal filings, and accreditation complaints—were scrubbed from the independent news site IndyBay. The removed content accused Swelstad of deceiving students and the public for over two decades about the quality and viability of the Media Arts program, as well as about his own professional qualifications.

In June 2025, a negative student review about Swelstad—posted by a disabled student—disappeared from Rate My Professor. These incidents form part of what appears to be a years-long campaign of online reputation management and public deception.



An AI-driven analysis of Rate My Professor entries for long-serving Media Arts faculty—including Swelstad, Arantxa Rodriguez, Chad Sustin, Dan Watanabe, and Jason Beaton—suggests that the majority of positive reviews were written by a single individual or a small group. The analysis cited "Identical Phrasing Across Profiles," "Unusually Consistent Tag Patterns," and a "Homogeneous Tone and Style" as evidence:

“It is very likely that many (possibly a majority) of the positive reviews across these faculty pages were written by one person or a small group using similar templates, tone, and strategy… The presence of clearly distinct voices, especially in the negative reviews, shows that not all content comes from the same source.”

A now-deleted IndyBay article also revealed emails dating back to 2016 between LAVC students and Los Angeles Daily News journalist Dana Bartholomew, who reportedly received detailed complaints from at least a dozen students—but failed to publish the story. Instead, Bartholomew later authored two glowing articles featuring Swelstad and celebrating the approval of LAVC’s $78.5 million Valley Academic and Cultural Center:

* *"L.A. Valley College’s new performing arts center may be put on hold as costs rise,"* Dana Bartholomew, August 28, 2017.

  [https://www.dailynews.com/2016/08/09/la-valley-colleges-new-performing-arts-center-may-be-put-on-hold-as-costs-rise/amp/](https://www.dailynews.com/2016/08/09/la-valley-colleges-new-performing-arts-center-may-be-put-on-hold-as-costs-rise/amp/)

* *"L.A. Valley College’s $78.5-million arts complex approved in dramatic downtown vote,"* Dana Bartholomew, August 11, 2016.
  [https://www.dailynews.com/2016/08/11/la-valley-colleges-785-million-arts-complex-approved-in-dramatic-downtown-vote/](https://www.dailynews.com/2016/08/11/la-valley-colleges-785-million-arts-complex-approved-in-dramatic-downtown-vote/)

Among the most explosive allegations is that Swelstad misrepresented himself as a member of the Writer’s Guild of America (WGA), a claim contradicted by official WGA-West membership records, according to another redacted IndyBay report.

This appears to be the tip of the iceberg according to other also scrubbed IndyBay articles

Other questionable appointments, payments, and student ‘success stories’ in the Los Angeles Valley College Media Arts Department include:

* **Jo Ann Rivas**, a YouTube personality and former Building Oversight Committee member, was paid as a trainer and presenter despite reportedly only working as a casting assistant on the LAVC student-produced film *Canaan Land*.

(https://transparentcalifornia.com/salaries/2018/los-angeles-district/jo-ann-rivas/)

* **Robert Reber**, a student filmmaker, was paid as a cinematography expert.

(https://transparentcalifornia.com/salaries/2017/los-angeles-district/robert-reber/)

* **Diana Deville**, a radio host and LAVC alumna with media credits, served as Unit Production Manager on *Canaan Land*, but her resume claims high-profile studio affiliations including DreamWorks, MGM, and OWN.

(https://www.tnentertainment.com/directory/view/diana-deville-13338)

The film *Canaan Land*, made by LAVC Media Arts students, has itself raised eyebrows. Filmmaker Richard Rossi claimed that both it and his earlier student film *Clemente* had received personal endorsements from the late Pope Francis. These assertions were echoed on *Canaan Land*'s GoFundMe page, prompting public denials and clarifications from the Vatican in *The Washington Post* and *New York Post*:

[https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/early-lead/wp/2017/08/17/after-july-miracle-pope-francis-reportedly-moves-roberto-clemente-closer-to-sainthood/]
* [https://nypost.com/2017/08/17/the-complicated-battle-over-roberto-clementes-sainthood/]

Censorship efforts appear to have intensified following the publication of a now-removed article advising students how to apply for student loan discharge based on misleading or fraudulent education at LAVC’s Media Arts Department. If successful, such filings could expose the department—and the district—to financial liability.

But the highest-profile financial concern is the 2020 establishment of the **Hollywood Foreign Press Association’s $40,000 grant** for LAVC Media Arts students, administered by Swelstad:

* [HFPA Endowed Scholarship Announcement (PDF)](https://www.lavc.edu/sites/lavc.edu/files/2022-08/lavc_press_release-hfpa-endowed-scholarship-for-lavc-film-tv-students.pdf)
* [LAVC Grant History Document](https://services.laccd.edu/districtsite/Accreditation/lavc/Standard%20IVA/IVA1-02_Grants_History.pdf)

As a disreputable academic administrator with a documented history of professional fraud spanning two decades and multiple student success stories that aren’t, future grant donors may reconsider supporting the Department programs – further pushing the Los Angeles Valley College and by extension the district as a whole towards financial insolvency.