Higher Education Inquirer

Monday, June 30, 2025

Higher Education Inquirer Surpasses 150,000 Monthly Views in June 2025

Will Maximus and Its Subsidiary AidVantage See Cuts?

Maximus Inc., the parent company of federal student loan servicer Aidvantage, is facing growing financial and existential threats as the Trump administration completes a radical budget proposal that would slash Medicaid by hundreds of billions of dollars and cut the U.S. Department of Education in half. These proposed changes could gut the very federal contracts that have fueled Maximus's revenue and investor confidence over the last two decades. Once seen as a steady player in the outsourcing of public services, Maximus now stands at the edge of a political and technological cliff.

The proposed Trump budget includes a plan to eliminate the Office of Federal Student Aid and transfer the $1.6 trillion federal student loan portfolio to the Small Business Administration. This proposed restructuring would remove Aidvantage and other servicers from their current roles, replacing them with yet-unnamed alternatives. While Maximus has profited enormously from servicing loans through Aidvantage—one of the major federal loan servicers—it is unclear whether the company has any role in this new Trump-led student loan regime. The SBA, which lacks experience managing consumer lending and repayment infrastructure, could subcontract to politically favored firms or simply allow artificial intelligence to replace human collectors altogether.

This possibility is not far-fetched. A 2023 study by Yale Insights explored how AI systems are already outperforming human debt collectors in efficiency, compliance, and scalability. The report examined the growing use of bots to handle borrower communication, account resolution, and payment tracking. These developments could render Maximus’s human-heavy servicing model obsolete. If the federal government shifts toward automated collection, it could bypass Maximus entirely, either through privatized tech-driven firms or through internal platforms that require fewer labor-intensive contracts.

On the health and human services side of the business, Maximus is also exposed. The company has long served as a contractor for Medicaid programs across several states, managing call centers and eligibility support. But with Medicaid facing potentially devastating cuts in the proposed Trump budget, Maximus’s largest and most stable contracts could disappear. The company’s TES-RCM division has already shown signs of unraveling, with anonymous reports suggesting a steep drop-off in clients and the departure of long-time employees. One insider claimed, “Customers are dropping like flies as are longtime employees. Not enough people to do the little work we have.”

Remote Maximus employees are also reporting layoffs and instability, particularly in Iowa, where 34 remote workers were terminated after two decades of contract work on state Medicaid programs. Anxiety is spreading across internal forums and layoff boards, as workers fear they may soon be out of a job in a shrinking and increasingly automated industry. Posts on TheLayoff.com and in investor forums indicate growing unease about the company’s long-term viability, particularly in light of the federal budget priorities now taking shape in Washington.

While Maximus stock (MMS) continues to trade with relative strength and still appears profitable on paper, it is increasingly reliant on government spending that may no longer exist under a Trump administration intent on dismantling large parts of the federal bureaucracy. If student loan servicing is eliminated, transferred, or automated, and Medicaid contracts dry up due to funding cuts, Maximus could lose two of its biggest revenue streams in a matter of months. The company’s contract with the Department of Education, once seen as a long-term asset, may become a political liability in a system being restructured to reward loyalty and reduce regulatory oversight.

The question now is not whether Maximus will be forced to downsize—it already is—but whether it will remain a relevant player in the new federal landscape at all. As artificial intelligence, austerity, and ideological realignment converge, Maximus may be remembered less for its dominance and more for how quickly it became unnecessary.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue tracking developments affecting federal student loan servicers, government contractors, and the broader collapse of the administrative state.

Sunday, June 29, 2025

Coalition Building: UFF Activists Learn from Flight Attendants and Construction Workers (HELU Blog)

[Editor's note: This article first appeared at the Higher Education Labor United blog.]

In Florida, where Governor Ron DeSantis was carrying out Trump-style attacks on higher education before the 2024 election, the United Faculty of Florida, a statewide union, gathered organizers from various chapters and joined with other unions to hold a Worker’s Forum in Miami Springs, facilitated by the Miami-Dade DSA. – Editor

From Chris Robé, Professor of Film and Media Studies, Delegate to HELU, Vice-President of United Faculty of Florida, Florida Atlantic University

United Faculty of Florida (UFF), our faculty union, represents more than 25,000 full-time faculty members. During our union’s inception in the early 1970s, it intended on representing all campus workers. But by the time the bargaining unit was defined, only full-time faculty were included.

It is high time to revisit that bolder strategy of organizing all those sectors associated with higher education as HELU has proposed in its bold “wall-to-wall, coast-to-coast” strategy. This inspired a crew of us in Florida to hold our own statewide organizers meeting from various UFF chapters. Coalition building continued more recently as the chapters of the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) in Miami-Dade, Broward, and Palm Beach facilitated the South Florida Workers’ Forum on May 31st in Miami Springs at the AFL-CIO hall.

A few of us from various UFF chapters participated and attended with other members from the Communications Workers of America, UNITE HERE, Starbucks Workers United, Association of Flight Attendants, National Association of Letter Carriers, International Union of Painters and Allied Trades, American Federation of Government Employees, the Coalition of Black Trade Unionists, WeCount!, and many other organizations. A little over eighty people were in attendance.

The day consisted of four panels that addressed issues of: building union power; forming a union; fighting against state repression; and organizing for migrant justice. Between four and five people, each representing a different union, spoke briefly about each issue. Spanish translation was offered for those speaking exclusively in Spanish. Sub sandwiches, drinks and chips were provided in the back of the hall throughout the day.

I have written about this event more extensively in my blog, Dispatches from the Academic Trenches, so I will only highlight two inspiring moments during the forum. During the panel on forming a new union, Michael Baez, a flight attendant, mentioned that he was charged with assessing all five-hundred flight attendants’ attitude towards forming a union within his hub. He was the only organizer. Yet one could see in his friendly, upbeat disposition, he was the perfect person for the task. With a wide smile on his face, he informed us how he tried to raise fellow workers’ class-consciousness on flights while they engage in “jump seat therapy,” a term used to describe the way coworkers bare their life stories to each other out of earshot of customers while sitting across from each other during moments of rest.

Jairo, a construction worker who belongs to WeCount!, an immigrant-led workers’ organization, recounted in Spanish his efforts to make construction sites safer. He stated at one point: “We came here with suitcases in our hands in the pursuit of the American Dream. Instead, we find bosses trying to shortchange us and creating unsafe working conditions.” At the end of his talk, he held up his two calloused hands saying: “Remember: these are the hands that helped build Miami. These are also the hands that are building the union.”

It is hard to imagine a more difficult task of organizing workers after the end of a long shift working in construction or on a flight. But these workers served as testimony of doing so. Those of us in academia, where we set many of our own working hours and can use our site of employment for recruiting, have a rather privileged position compared to these other workers.

The opposition is counting on us staying siloed, keeping our heads down, and trying to wait all of this out. But as these speakers at the South Florida Worker’s Forum emphasized, we are all involved in this fight regardless if we acknowledge it or not. The only remaining question is: do we want to fight to strengthen our and others’ communities, work in coalitions and develop friendships and strategies with one another; or do we want to keep taking blows, time after time, day after day, year after year, until we ultimately no longer feel anything at all?

The Last Class with Robert Reich (Inequality Media Civic Action)

Former Secretary of Labor Robert Reich might be famous for his public service, best-selling books, and viral social media posts, but he always considered teaching his true calling. The Last Class captures a master educator wrestling with the dual realities of his own aging and his students inheriting a world out of balance. Reich confronts the impending finality with unflinching candor, humor, introspection, and a rawness of emotion he has never shared publicly before.

One thousand students fill the biggest lecture hall on campus—the last class to receive Reich’s wisdom and exhortations not to accept that society has to stay the way it is. His final assignment: Who will be the teachers of tomorrow?

Birth, Control, and Power: A Quick Look at Right-Wing Reproductive Politics

In the modern United States, reproductive politics reveal stark ideological divides, but both the right and the left have histories rooted in controlling human reproduction—often to serve the interests of power. Whether framed as “pro-natalist” family values or “pro-choice” empowerment, these approaches have frequently masked deeper agendas tied to class, race, and social engineering. As the political center collapses, reproductive ideology continues to play a key role in shaping American society, often with lasting consequences for working-class families and marginalized groups.

Right-Wing Natalism and the Specter of Eugenics

Contemporary right-wing natalist movements promote traditional family structures, religious values, and demographic anxieties. Often rooted in white Christian nationalism, this ideology champions increased birth rates among "desirable" populations—namely white, middle-class families—while condemning abortion, birth control, and non-traditional family arrangements. Political figures like J.D. Vance and media figures such as Tucker Carlson have echoed fears of “population collapse,” blaming feminism and liberalism for declining birthrates.

While overt eugenics is largely discredited, its influence persists. The right has shifted from scientific racism to cultural essentialism, but the underlying message remains: certain populations are seen as more valuable than others. Immigration restrictions, anti-abortion laws, and attacks on trans and queer rights are framed as moral issues but functionally serve to preserve a narrow vision of the American demographic future—white, heterosexual, and Christian.

Natalist rhetoric also intersects with state coercion. In states like Texas and Florida, reproductive restrictions disproportionately affect poor women and women of color, echoing older eugenic practices under a new guise. Mass incarceration, forced sterilization of incarcerated women (as recently as the 2010s in California), and limited access to maternal healthcare all suggest that control—not life—is the central concern.

Overpopulation: A Weaponized Narrative

Since the mid-20th century, overpopulation has been a dominant frame in global discourse. Books like The Population Bomb (1968) by Paul Ehrlich warned of mass starvation and environmental collapse due to unchecked population growth. These fears, while partly grounded in real ecological concerns, often served to justify draconian population control policies, particularly in the Global South.

In the U.S., overpopulation rhetoric was used to rationalize sterilization programs aimed at welfare recipients, disabled people, and communities of color. These efforts were framed as humanitarian or scientific, but they disproportionately targeted those deemed unproductive or undesirable by elites.

Today, overpopulation remains a contentious issue. On the right, it's often reframed as a problem of immigration and "replacement theory"—xenophobic ideas suggesting that white populations are being “outbred” by non-white groups. On the left, it's still tied to environmental collapse, but often without sufficient attention to the vastly unequal consumption patterns between the wealthy and the poor.

For college students, the overpopulation narrative intersects with rising eco-anxiety and economic precarity. Some students are choosing to remain child-free due to fears about climate change, resource scarcity, or financial instability. Yet this “choice” is not made in a vacuum—it is shaped by decades of messaging that human reproduction is a threat to planetary survival, even while corporations and elites continue to pollute without consequence.

The result is a generational bind: students are told to postpone or forgo family life for the greater good, even as they face mounting student debt, poor job prospects, and a degraded public sphere. The message is clear: the future is too bleak, too crowded, too uncertain—and it’s your responsibility not to make it worse.

College Students and the New Reproductive Landscape

College students—especially first-generation, low-income, or minority students—are caught between conflicting reproductive ideologies and economic realities. They are pressured to delay or avoid parenthood in order to complete their degrees, often while facing mounting debt and precarious living conditions.

Student parents—particularly single mothers—face enormous obstacles, from lack of campus childcare to inflexible class schedules and financial aid rules that penalize dependents. The unspoken message: reproduction and higher education are incompatible, unless one is wealthy enough to afford both.

At the same time, some conservative institutions and religious colleges promote pro-natalist ideologies, pressuring students—especially women—to embrace early motherhood and traditional family roles. In both cases, the student’s autonomy is sidelined by institutional agendas: either to create compliant future workers or to produce ideologically aligned citizens.

Public funding cuts, rising tuition, and the gig economy have made the promise of “upward mobility through education” increasingly hollow. For many, the decision to have a child while in college is less about personal freedom than about economic calculation—one shaped by the policies, ideologies, and silences of both the political left and right.

Two Sides of the Same Coin?

While the rhetoric differs—moral purity on the right, liberation on the left—both camps have historically supported forms of population management, often justified through appeals to science, economics, or national interest. Whether through coercive sterilizations or technocratic birth control initiatives, these policies have frequently dehumanized the very people they claim to help.

For the growing educated underclass—trapped between low-wage work and rising debt—the terrain of reproduction is fraught. On one side, there are calls to breed for the nation. On the other, offers of chemical and surgical solutions to economic despair. Neither speaks to the structural problems of inequality, environmental crisis, or a broken social contract.

Beyond Reproduction as Control

A truly humane reproductive politics would begin with material support for families of all kinds—paid parental leave, universal healthcare, free childcare, and the end of punitive welfare systems. It would recognize that real choice requires real power: over time, bodies, labor, education, and futures.

Until then, both right-wing natalism and liberal reproductive policy risk reproducing old hierarchies under new names. They are less about life, liberty, or autonomy—and more about managing who gets to live, and under what conditions.

How the 940-Page Senate Bill Accelerates the College Meltdown

In the midst of economic uncertainty, demographic decline, and ballooning student debt, the U.S. Senate has introduced a 940-page spending and tax reconciliation bill—dubbed by some lawmakers as the “One Big Beautiful Bill Act.” But behind the political branding lies a sweeping blueprint for disinvestment in working-class Americans, especially in higher education. If passed, the bill would not only accelerate the ongoing College Meltdown—it would codify it.

Slashing the Ladder: Pell Grant Restrictions

At the heart of the bill is a deceptively simple change: redefining full-time college attendance from 12 credits per semester to 15 credits. This shift may sound technical, but its consequences are enormous.

According to the Congressional Budget Office and the National Association of Student Financial Aid Administrators (NASFAA), this new definition would result in more than 4.4 million Pell Grant recipients receiving either reduced aid or losing eligibility entirely. An estimated 1.4 million students—mostly community college attendees, part-time students, older learners, and single parents—could lose access to Pell Grants altogether.

In a nation already grappling with declining college enrollments and rising student attrition, these changes will likely push thousands more out of the system and close the door for many before they ever step into a classroom.

Medicaid, SNAP, and the Vanishing Safety Net

Higher education does not exist in a vacuum. The Senate bill proposes more than $930 billion in cuts to Medicaid over the next decade. These cuts come alongside the imposition of work requirements and cost-sharing mandates that will affect millions of low-income Americans—including a significant share of college students.

Many students depend on Medicaid for mental health support, primary care, and prescriptions. Others rely on SNAP to eat. Under the proposed legislation, these essential supports would be stripped from the very students who need them to persist in school.

A 2023 GAO report found that over 30 percent of U.S. college students experience food or housing insecurity. This bill doesn’t just ignore that crisis—it actively worsens it.

Starving Public Colleges

The federal Medicaid cuts would ripple through state budgets, forcing legislatures to make difficult decisions. In many cases, that will mean diverting funds away from public higher education systems.

Already under strain from declining enrollment and years of austerity, public colleges—especially regional universities and community colleges—would face even deeper cuts. The likely result: tuition increases, faculty layoffs, program closures, and the elimination of student services.

In effect, the bill shifts the cost burden of public education from the collective public to individual students and families, reinforcing a model of privatized risk and public abandonment.

Loans Over Grants, Profits Over People

In parallel with Pell Grant restrictions, the bill unwinds critical student loan protections put in place over the last five years. It reverses enhancements to Income-Driven Repayment (IDR) plans and proposes the elimination of Biden-era loan forgiveness programs.

These changes benefit the student loan servicing industry, which stands to profit from lengthened repayment timelines and reduced cancellation pathways. Meanwhile, borrowers—especially those from low-income backgrounds—are pushed deeper into long-term debt peonage.

For a generation already saddled with debt and entering a labor market rife with instability, the Senate bill amounts to a massive wealth transfer upward—from struggling students to banks and servicers.

Enabling the Rise of Robocolleges

The weakening of financial aid and public support creates fertile ground for low-cost, low-quality alternatives: online diploma mills, edtech credential vendors, and "robocolleges" that replace faculty with algorithms.

Without adequate Pell funding or public college access, desperate students will be more likely to fall into the traps of for-profit institutions and unaccredited providers that promise quick credentials—but often deliver worthless degrees and predatory loans.

This shift doesn’t just hurt students. It undermines the quality of the U.S. workforce, degrades academic labor, and cedes the future of education to automation and private equity.

A Future for the Few

Ultimately, the “One Big Beautiful Bill” cements a two-tiered higher education system: elite universities insulated by billion-dollar endowments, and a gutted public sector limping along under austerity, privatization, and surveillance.

It is no coincidence that these policies are being introduced as the population ages, racial and economic inequality deepens, and faith in democratic institutions erodes. Higher education, once framed as a ladder of mobility, is becoming a narrow gangplank—offering escape only to the few who can afford it.

Meltdown Legislation

The College Meltdown is no longer a slow decline. It’s being legislated into crisis.

If passed, the Senate’s 940-page bill would mark a turning point: a systemic dismantling of the supports that make higher education possible for working-class Americans. From financial aid to public health, from state colleges to community safety nets, the tools of educational access are being hollowed out by design.

And while elite donors and legislators continue to fund their own children's paths to Princeton and Stanford, millions of other Americans will be left out—again.

Sources:

NASFAA: Pell Grant Aid Analysis
Congressional Budget Office (CBO) Medicaid Cut Estimates
Inside Higher Ed: “Community Colleges Fear Pell Changes”
GAO Report: “Food and Housing Insecurity Among College Students”
Brookings Institution: “Cuts to the Social Safety Net and the Future of Higher Education”

Saturday, June 28, 2025

"The Economy Is Rigged": Robert Reich on Zohran Mamdani, The Democratic Party, Inequality, and Trump

Trump's Department of Education Continues to Drag Feet on Borrower Defense

On June 26th, the US Department of Education was brought to the Ninth District Court (and Judge Alsup) to show how many the Borrower Defense to Repayment cases that have been resolved per court order.

While we wait for a transcript of the latest episode of Sweet v McMahon, what we can tell you is that the Trump government continues to drag its feet in paying back debtors who have been defrauded.

According to Theresa Sweet:

“We really need Borrower Defense applicants included in both the full and post class of Sweet to send any denials to the Project on Predatory Student Lending. It’s important for the legal team to be able to track this and make sure there are no patterns of boilerplate denials or mass denials. It’s also really important to remember that if a Sweet class or post class member gets a denial it should include a Revise and Resubmit notice, which *must* be resubmitted on time or the denial becomes final unless the person takes it to court on their own.”

More than 950.000 student loan debtors have filed borrower defense fraud claims.

Doing Good? How Nonprofits Exploit the Tax System, Pay Low Wages, and Undermine Labor Rights

The American nonprofit sector, comprising everything from social justice nonprofits to right-wing think tanks, is widely seen as a moral compass in public life. These organizations claim to serve the common good, benefiting from tax-exempt status under Section 501(c)(3) or 501(c)(4) of the U.S. tax code. But beneath the image of benevolence lies a complex ecosystem where low wages, union resistance, and the concentration of wealth and power are all too common. Whether left-leaning or conservative, many nonprofits operate like corporations in all but name—exploiting public subsidies while avoiding the labor and tax obligations of the private sector.

While liberal nonprofits often claim moral high ground, conservative nonprofits such as the Heritage Foundation, Federalist Society, and Turning Point USA are even more explicit in using their nonprofit status for ideological gain. These organizations are generously funded by a network of wealthy donors and dark money, benefiting from laws that shield donor identities while still providing tax breaks. The New York Times and ProPublica have both documented how right-wing nonprofit networks use complex legal structures to move billions in untraceable funds through donor-advised funds and shell charities to influence elections, judiciary appointments, and public policy—while maintaining nonprofit status.

The 2018 creation of the Marble Freedom Trust, which received $1.6 billion in a single donation from electronics magnate Barre Seid, is one of the most striking examples of how conservative nonprofits benefit from the tax system. The money went to Leonard Leo, architect of the conservative judicial movement, and is being used to reshape American courts and governance—all tax-exempt. These conservative nonprofits rarely face scrutiny from the IRS, while progressive nonprofits, especially those tied to activism or labor organizing, often face intense bureaucratic hurdles or audits.

Despite their wealth, conservative nonprofits are not known for paying living wages to their rank-and-file employees. Just as with liberal nonprofits, a culture of ideological commitment is often used to justify stagnant salaries, limited benefits, and the absence of unions. At places like the Leadership Institute or the Intercollegiate Studies Institute, workers may be expected to accept lower compensation for the “privilege” of advancing a conservative mission. Few, if any, of these organizations are unionized. Interns and entry-level employees are often underpaid, even as their organizations maintain multi-million-dollar budgets and highly paid executive teams.

Meanwhile, liberal and progressive nonprofits often mirror this dynamic. The Southern Poverty Law Center, the ACLU, and the Sierra Club have all faced internal revolts from underpaid and overworked staff seeking union protections and better pay. Despite progressive missions, many of these organizations have resisted unionization, hired union-busting consultants, and continued to pay senior leadership six- or seven-figure salaries. The exploitation is bipartisan, rooted not in ideology but in structure: the tax system enables and incentivizes this behavior.

Across the political spectrum, nonprofits depend heavily on unpaid or underpaid labor. Interns, volunteers, and junior staff are routinely told that their sacrifices serve a greater cause, whether that cause is climate justice or dismantling “woke” education. The result is the same: a hollowing out of labor rights under the banner of purpose. The nonprofit sector has become a vehicle for elite influence—liberal and conservative alike—rather than a true instrument of public good.

Unionization in the nonprofit world remains low. According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, nonprofit union membership has barely increased over the past three decades. And while there has been an uptick in union drives at liberal nonprofits, conservative organizations have largely avoided these movements altogether. In fact, many conservative nonprofits are actively hostile to organized labor as a matter of principle. The Heritage Foundation, for example, has long opposed the expansion of labor rights and has advised Republican administrations on how to weaken collective bargaining in the public sector.

As nonprofit wealth grows—particularly through endowments, real estate holdings, and tax-exempt investments—workers at the bottom continue to struggle. In higher education, many private nonprofit colleges and universities pay adjunct professors poverty wages while top administrators earn corporate-level compensation. Religious nonprofits, too, have been found to exploit workers under the guise of spiritual service. Megachurches and faith-based charities sometimes use volunteer labor as a substitute for paid employment, all while claiming tax benefits and avoiding federal labor laws.

Reform is urgently needed. Tax exemption should come with clear standards for labor rights, wage equity, and financial transparency. The IRS must enforce restrictions on political spending by nonprofits, particularly those masquerading as educational institutions while operating as partisan arms. Donor disclosure laws should apply across the board, and tax deductions for mega-donations should be limited unless tied to measurable public benefit. If nonprofits are to retain their privileged legal status, they must meet basic ethical and democratic standards.

Until these changes occur, the nonprofit sector will remain a shadow version of the for-profit world—reaping public subsidies while delivering low wages, avoiding unions, and deepening political inequality. Whether the name on the letterhead reads “Heritage Foundation” or “ACLU,” the structure of exploitation is the same. It's not just a crisis of values. It's a crisis of accountability.

Sources

ProPublica. “How a Billionaire’s Donation Exploded the Conservative Nonprofit World.” August 2022. https://www.propublica.org/article/dark-money-leonard-leo-barre-seid

New York Times. “They Legally Moved Billions to Fund Conservatives.” October 2021. https://www.nytimes.com/2021/10/05/us/politics/dark-money-nonprofits.html

Associated Press. “Why Workers at a Growing Number of Nonprofits Are Unionizing.” June 2023. https://apnews.com/article/7fd961c88c614db47db63ffcd80e084e

PayScale. “Nonprofit Pay Cut: How Much Are You Losing to Do Good?” https://www.payscale.com/research-and-insights/nonprofit-pay-cut

Teen Vogue. “The Nonprofit Industrial Complex: What Is It and How Does It Work?” https://www.teenvogue.com/story/non-profit-industrial-complex-what-is

Bureau of Labor Statistics. “Nonprofit Earnings and Sectoral Employment in the United States Since 1994.” https://www.bls.gov/opub/mlr/2024/article/nonprofit-earnings-and-sectoral-employment-in-the-united-states-since-1994.htm

San Francisco Chronicle. “One of the Bay Area’s Most Progressive Nonprofits Is Warring with Itself.” https://www.sfchronicle.com/opinion/soleilho/article/nonprofit-unions-workers-20038770.php

Reddit. “Antiwork Nonprofit Volunteer Testimonies.” https://www.reddit.com/r/antiwork/comments/uhnrfd

Challenge the Establishment, Peacefully

Good history, myth busting, and power analysis are not just retro, they're rad(ical), and they are critically needed now more than ever. Educate, Agitate, Organize...

University of Virginia President is Latest Casualty of Trump's War Against Higher Education

In a political environment increasingly hostile to independent academic thought, University of Virginia President James E. Ryan has become the latest victim of a broader right-wing campaign to reshape American higher education. On June 26, 2025, President Ryan announced he would step down in 2026 amid escalating political pressure from Governor Glenn Youngkin and conservative donors aligned with former President Donald Trump’s ideological movement.

Ryan’s departure signals a new phase in what many scholars, faculty advocates, and civil liberties organizations describe as a calculated “war on higher education.” This campaign—led by Trump-aligned political figures and well-funded conservative think tanks—seeks to silence dissent, reshape curricula, and exert direct control over public universities once considered bastions of academic freedom.

From Jefferson's Dream to a Political Battleground

Founded by Thomas Jefferson as an Enlightenment-era experiment in self-governance and inquiry, the University of Virginia (UVA) has long held symbolic and practical importance in debates over the role of public higher education. But in the Trump era—and its aftermath—UVA has become a target for ideologues determined to transform universities into instruments of state-aligned conservatism.

Under Governor Youngkin, a UVA alumnus with close ties to Trump’s network of political operatives and donors, the Board of Visitors has seen a rightward shift. Youngkin has appointed multiple trustees who are openly critical of so-called “woke ideology,” DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) programs, and what they describe as the “leftist capture” of the academy.

Behind the scenes, donors aligned with conservative power brokers—some of whom also back organizations like the Manhattan Institute and the Heritage Foundation—have pushed for greater oversight of faculty hiring, curriculum design, and student programming. These efforts have been coupled with demands for ideological “balance,” often interpreted as enforced conservatism within departments historically committed to independent research and peer-reviewed scholarship.

The Pressure Mounts

President Ryan, who took office in 2018, initially enjoyed broad support. A legal scholar and former dean of Harvard’s Graduate School of Education, he worked to increase access for low-income students, build partnerships across ideological lines, and maintain UVA’s national reputation as a top-tier research institution.

But in the polarized landscape of post-2020 politics, Ryan found himself increasingly isolated. His support for DEI initiatives and resistance to political interference in hiring practices drew fire from right-wing media and activists who accused him of promoting “Marxism” and “anti-American” values. Conservative lawmakers in Virginia began threatening funding, while pressure from the Board of Visitors grew more intense and public.

By spring 2025, insiders say, it became clear that Ryan was being pushed toward the door. His announcement on June 26 came just months after similar resignations or removals of university leaders in Florida, Texas, and North Carolina—all states where Republican governors and legislatures have tightened their grip on higher education institutions.

Part of a Broader Campaign

Ryan’s resignation is not an isolated incident. It is the latest in a national trend of politically motivated purges of university leadership. In Florida, Governor Ron DeSantis oversaw the forced transformation of New College into a conservative stronghold, appointing culture warriors to the board and replacing leadership. In Texas, universities have seen crackdowns on DEI offices, faculty tenure protections, and academic freedom under the guise of “protecting free speech.”

Former President Trump and his surrogates have repeatedly framed colleges and universities as enemies of the people, accusing them of indoctrinating youth and undermining national unity. Trump-aligned media outlets have amplified attacks on liberal arts programs, gender studies departments, and student activism, framing higher education as a battleground in the culture war.

Meanwhile, dark money groups such as the American Council of Trustees and Alumni (ACTA) and the Federalist Society continue to shape governance reforms that reduce faculty power and increase donor and political influence. Some universities have faced legislation requiring loyalty pledges or mandating ideological reporting, tactics reminiscent of Cold War-era McCarthyism.

The Stakes for the Future

The forced resignation of James Ryan represents more than the loss of a single university president—it is a bellwether of a changing higher education landscape. The public university, once envisioned as a bulwark of democratic inquiry and upward mobility, is being redefined by those who see knowledge not as a public good but as a political threat.

For faculty, staff, and students at UVA and beyond, the message is chilling: conform or be replaced. The right’s war on higher education shows no signs of slowing. With the 2026 midterm elections on the horizon and the Trump faction consolidating control over multiple states, more university leaders may soon face the same fate as President Ryan.

In this struggle, what is at stake is not only academic freedom, but the future of American democracy.

Harvard, Russia, and the Quiet Complicity of American Higher Education

In the fog of elite diplomacy and global finance, some of the United States' most prestigious universities—chief among them, Harvard—have long had entangled and often opaque relationships with authoritarian regimes. While recent headlines focus on China’s influence in higher education, far less attention has been paid to the role elite U.S. institutions have played in legitimizing, enabling, and profiting from post-Soviet Russia’s slide into oligarchy and repression.

The Harvard-Russia Nexus

Harvard University, through its now-infamous Harvard Institute for International Development (HIID), was a key player in Russia's economic transition following the collapse of the Soviet Union. During the 1990s, HIID, backed by millions of dollars in U.S. government aid through the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), provided advice on privatization and market reforms in Russia. This effort, touted as a cornerstone of democracy promotion, instead helped consolidate power among a small class of oligarchs, fueling the economic inequality and corruption that ultimately laid the foundation for Vladimir Putin's authoritarian rule.

Harvard’s involvement reached scandalous proportions. In 2001, the U.S. Department of Justice sued Harvard, economist Andrei Shleifer (a professor in Harvard's Economics Department), and others for self-dealing and conflict of interest. Shleifer and his associates were found to have used their insider access to enrich themselves and their families through Russian investments, all while supposedly advising the Russian government on behalf of the American taxpayer. Harvard eventually paid $26.5 million to settle the case.

Though the scandal damaged HIID's reputation and led to its closure, the broader complicity of the academic and financial elite in exploiting Russia’s vulnerability during the 1990s has received little sustained scrutiny.

Lawrence Summers and the Russian Connection

At the center of this story sits Lawrence Summers—a former Harvard president, U.S. Treasury Secretary, and one of the most powerful figures in the transatlantic economic order. Summers was both mentor and close associate of Andrei Shleifer. During the critical years of Russian privatization, Summers served as Undersecretary and later Secretary of the Treasury under President Clinton, while Shleifer operated HIID’s Russia project.

Despite the blatant conflict of interest, Summers never publicly disavowed Shleifer's actions. After returning to Harvard, he brought Shleifer back into the university’s good graces, protecting his tenured position and helping him avoid serious institutional consequences. This protection underscored the tight-knit nature of elite networks where accountability is rare and reputations are guarded like intellectual property.

Summers himself has invested in Russia through various vehicles over the years, and has held lucrative advisory roles with financial firms deeply enmeshed in post-Soviet economies. He also played an advisory role for Russian tech giant Yandex and has appeared at events sponsored by firms with deep Russian connections. While Summers has since criticized the Putin regime, his earlier role in enabling the very conditions that empowered it is seldom discussed in polite academic company.

A Broader Pattern of Complicity

Harvard is not alone. Institutions like Stanford, Yale, Georgetown, and the University of Chicago have produced scholars, consultants, and think tanks that helped construct the framework of neoliberal transition in Russia and Eastern Europe. These universities not only trained many of the Russian technocrats who later served in Putin’s government, but also quietly benefited from international partnerships, fellowships, and endowments tied to post-Soviet wealth.

Endowments at elite institutions remain shrouded in secrecy, and it is not always possible to trace the sources of foreign gifts or investments. But it’s clear that Russian oligarchs—many of whom owe their fortunes to the very privatization schemes U.S. economists championed—have made donations to elite Western universities or served on their advisory boards. Some sponsored academic centers and fellowships designed to burnish their reputations or reframe narratives about Russia’s transformation.

The Death of a Dissident

The failure of Western academic institutions to reckon with their role in Russia’s descent into authoritarianism became all the more glaring with the death of Alexei Navalny in February 2024. Navalny, a fierce critic of corruption and Putin’s regime, was imprisoned and ultimately killed for challenging the very system that U.S. advisers like those from Harvard helped engineer. While universities issued public statements condemning his death, few acknowledged the deeper complicity of their faculty, programs, and funders in building the oligarchic structures Navalny spent his life trying to dismantle.

Navalny repeatedly exposed how Russian wealth was funneled into offshore accounts and Western real estate, often aided by a global network of enablers—including lawyers, bankers, and academics in the West. His death is not just a symbol of Putin’s brutality—it is also a damning indictment of the institutions, both in Russia and abroad, that failed to stop it and, in many cases, profited along the way.

Where is the Accountability?

Despite the Shleifer scandal and Russia’s authoritarian consolidation, there has been no independent reckoning from Harvard or its peer institutions about their role in the failures of the 1990s or the long-term consequences of their economic evangelism. The neoliberal ideology that fueled these efforts—steeped in faith in free markets, minimal regulation, and elite technocracy—remains dominant in elite policy circles, even as it faces growing critique from both left and right.

Meanwhile, institutions like Harvard continue to influence global policy through their academic prestige, think tanks, and alumni networks. They remain powerful arbiters of truth—shaping how the public understands foreign policy, democracy, and capitalism—while rarely acknowledging their own entanglement in the darker chapters of globalization.

Elite Academia and Oligarchy

The story of Harvard and Russia is not just a tale of one institution’s failure; it is emblematic of the broader failure of elite American academia to confront its own role in the spread of oligarchy, inequality, and authoritarianism under the banner of liberal democracy. In an age when higher education is under increased scrutiny for its political and financial entanglements, the need for critical journalism and public accountability has never been greater.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to investigate these complex relationships—and demand transparency from the institutions that claim to serve the public good, while operating behind a veil of privilege and power. Navalny’s sacrifice deserves more than hollow statements. It requires a full accounting of how the system he died fighting was built—with help from the most powerful university in the world.

Friday, June 27, 2025

Layoffs at Southern New Hampshire University

Southern New Hampshire University (SNHU), long hailed as a leader in online education and a symbol of institutional reinvention, laid off approximately 60 employees on June 27, 2025. The move came without warning to staff, according to an anonymous source close to the situation.

Employees reportedly received a generic email from Lisa Marsh Ryerson, SNHU's newly installed president, delivering the news of their termination. There was no video call, no face-to-face meeting, and no meaningful explanation beyond the cold language of corporate HR.

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

The layoffs have sent shockwaves through the university’s workforce—many of whom had believed that SNHU’s image as a student-centered and employee-friendly institution translated into job security. That assumption, it appears, was misplaced.

SNHU, which once garnered praise from the Obama administration for its innovative online learning model, has undergone significant changes in recent years. Under the leadership of former president Paul LeBlanc, the university expanded its online programs rapidly and became one of the largest nonprofit providers of online degrees in the United States. But as the market for online education becomes increasingly competitive and enrollment pressures mount across the country, even big players like SNHU appear to be tightening their belts.

What’s striking about this latest round of cuts is not just the numbers—but the tone. At a university that prides itself on personalization and student engagement, employees describe the layoff process as abrupt, impersonal, and dehumanizing.

“They preach empathy to students,” the source noted. “But when it came to their own staff, there was none.”

It’s unclear which departments or roles were affected. SNHU has yet to issue a public statement, and no mention of the layoffs could be found on the university’s website or social media accounts at the time of publication.

The layoffs at SNHU follow broader trends in the higher education sector, where institutions—both public and private—are increasingly resorting to staff reductions amid enrollment declines, demographic shifts, and uncertain funding landscapes. But even in this context, the lack of transparency and empathy stands out.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to monitor developments at Southern New Hampshire University and invites current and former employees to share their experiences confidentially.

Remembering Bill Moyers (1934-2025)

In a media landscape often dominated by soundbites, spin, and sensationalism, Bill Moyers was a rare voice of clarity, compassion, and conscience. With his passing, America has lost not only a gifted journalist and public intellectual but also one of its most courageous truth-tellers.

For more than half a century, Moyers stood at the intersection of journalism, politics, and public education—unyielding in his pursuit of justice and understanding. From his early days as White House Press Secretary under President Lyndon Johnson to his groundbreaking work with PBS, Moyers embodied the spirit of democratic inquiry: probing deeply, listening intently, and speaking boldly. He held the powerful to account, but always with the dignity and decency that defined his Texan roots and Baptist upbringing.

Bill Moyers never saw journalism as a career; he saw it as a calling. His programs—Now with Bill Moyers, Bill Moyers Journal, and Moyers & Company—were sanctuaries for critical thought and inconvenient truths. He gave voice to the voiceless: whistleblowers, teachers, laborers, poets, and prophets. In a time when the corporate capture of media narrowed the spectrum of acceptable opinion, Moyers stretched it wide—amplifying progressive theologians, investigative reporters, civil rights leaders, and scholars ignored by commercial networks.

His love of learning, and his belief in public education as a democratic cornerstone, made him a champion of educators and lifelong learners. He understood that education is not merely about credentials or career preparation, but about cultivating the moral imagination. That insight animated his long relationship with public broadcasting, where he insisted that television could—and should—educate, illuminate, and elevate.

Bill Moyers also saw through the fog of power. He knew how elite institutions—government, media, universities, and corporations—could align to manufacture consent and mystify the public. And yet he maintained hope. Not a naive optimism, but a deep belief in people’s capacity to awaken, organize, and transform society. As he once said, “Democracy is not a lie, it is a leap of faith. But you need to keep leaping.”

In a moment when American higher education faces crises of affordability, access, and meaning—when trust in journalism is frayed, and when truth itself feels embattled—Bill Moyers’ legacy reminds us that integrity matters. So does context, complexity, and compassion.

His loss is personal for those of us at the Higher Education Inquirer. Many of us were shaped by his work, inspired by his commitment to investigative rigor and human dignity. His interviews with thinkers like Howard Zinn, Cornel West, Barbara Ehrenreich, and Joseph Campbell helped expand the public's moral and intellectual horizons—precisely what higher education should strive to do.

In remembering Bill Moyers, we are called to do more than mourn. We are called to follow his example: to ask harder questions, to listen more deeply, to speak more clearly, and to stand, always, with the people who are too often ignored or maligned.

Rest in power, Bill Moyers. Your words lit candles in the darkness. May we carry that light forward.

DeSantis-Led Coalition Launches New Accreditation Body: Ideology, Outcomes, and a Shift in Higher Ed Oversight

In a bold move that could upend the structure of higher education oversight in the United States, Florida Governor Ron DeSantis announced the creation of the Commission for Public Higher Education (CPHE)—a multi-state effort to challenge what he and his allies call the “activist-controlled accreditation monopoly.” The CPHE includes six Republican-led states: Florida, Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Tennessee, and Texas.

Positioned as a new accrediting entity with a focus on “student outcomes, transparency, and ideological independence,” the CPHE represents a growing backlash against traditional regional accreditors like the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools Commission on Colleges (SACSCOC). According to DeSantis and CPHE proponents, these longstanding organizations have prioritized diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) and other perceived progressive mandates over academic quality, workforce readiness, and measurable outcomes.

The Political Context

Governor DeSantis has made higher education a central battleground in his broader cultural agenda, particularly since his administration launched efforts to eliminate DEI offices, weaken tenure protections, and reshape public university boards. The CPHE fits neatly into that larger campaign—what DeSantis calls “reclaiming higher education.”

“We’re breaking the stranglehold of the accreditation cartel,” DeSantis said in Boca Raton. “Florida is leading the way in building an education system based on results, not ideology.”

The effort is being coordinated with support from public university systems across the South, including the University of South Carolina and the University Systems of Georgia and Texas. University of South Carolina Board Chair Thad Westbrook praised the new accreditor’s “outcomes-based” framework, stating it will “benefit students while making accreditation more efficient.”

A Threat to the Federal Gatekeeping System?

Accreditation in the U.S. plays a crucial gatekeeping role: it determines whether institutions are eligible to receive federal student aid, including Pell Grants and federally backed student loans. For CPHE to have any real impact, it must eventually be recognized by the U.S. Department of Education.

That recognition is far from guaranteed. The process requires years of documentation, reviews, and approvals—and federal education officials may view CPHE’s openly political roots as problematic. Critics argue the consortium is more about ideological conformity than educational quality.

Risks and Ramifications

While the CPHE claims to offer a “rigorous” and “transparent” alternative to traditional accreditation, skeptics—including some education policy analysts and faculty advocates—warn that the real motive is political control over higher education institutions. By tying accreditation to a specific ideological framework, opponents fear that academic freedom, faculty governance, and research independence could be undermined.

There are also practical concerns. Should CPHE institutions lose recognition by federal agencies or face lawsuits over inconsistent standards, students could suffer the consequences—especially those relying on financial aid or seeking degrees with recognized accreditation.

Moreover, CPHE's narrow focus on "student outcomes" often means post-graduate earnings or job placement, metrics that oversimplify complex educational goals and ignore broader social and civic benefits of higher education.

A Test of Federalism in Higher Ed

This development marks an escalation in the state-federal tug-of-war over higher education. With the U.S. Supreme Court increasingly supportive of state autonomy, and with Congress gridlocked, states like Florida are testing how far they can go in reshaping public education under a conservative vision.

The CPHE may become a flashpoint in the national debate over what public universities are for—and who gets to decide. Whether this initiative results in meaningful improvement or becomes another chapter in the politicization of higher education remains to be seen.

The Supreme Court's Medicaid Ruling and the Manufactured War on Reproductive Health: A Response to Liberty University's “Freedom Center”

On June 26, 2025, the U.S. Supreme Court handed down a 6-3 decision in Medina v. Planned Parenthood South Atlantic, allowing South Carolina to remove Planned Parenthood from its list of Medicaid providers. While the decision raises serious legal and ethical concerns, it is the celebratory response from Liberty University's Standing for Freedom Center that warrants deeper scrutiny. Their framing of this decision as a moral and policy victory is not only misleading—it is a dangerous piece of religious nationalism masquerading as public policy commentary.

The Freedom Center’s narrative—couched in biblical justification, political triumphalism, and ideological fervor—ignores the very real, lived consequences for working-class women and college students across South Carolina and beyond. It presents a sanitized vision of “Christian governance” while masking the cruelty of stripping access to basic healthcare from the most vulnerable populations. This is not “standing for freedom”—this is the strategic consolidation of patriarchal, classist, and theocratic power.

A Direct Attack on Low-Income Women and Families

Let’s be clear: this ruling does not merely "redirect funding." It restricts access to cancer screenings, contraception, STI testing, and other non-abortion services provided by Planned Parenthood clinics—especially to Medicaid recipients, many of whom are low-income women, students, and working mothers. In South Carolina, two Planned Parenthood clinics served thousands of such patients. The claim that these women can simply go elsewhere is glib and unsubstantiated.

The Freedom Center boasts that over 140 “federally qualified community centers and pregnancy centers” exist to fill the gap. But these centers are notoriously inconsistent in the quality and availability of care, especially for reproductive health. Many so-called “pregnancy crisis centers” provide no medical care at all and are known to mislead and shame patients. Access to meaningful, comprehensive reproductive care is not about the number of buildings—it’s about the quality, scope, and inclusiveness of services. Pretending otherwise is disingenuous at best.

Medicaid Recipients Silenced

At the heart of Medina is a deeply troubling precedent: individuals who depend on Medicaid can no longer sue the state if their access to providers is unilaterally restricted. The decision hinges on the argument that the Medicaid Act doesn’t explicitly allow private citizens to sue—a reversal of decades of precedent that protected patient choice.

This decision silences not just providers but patients. It strips legal recourse from low-income Americans and hands unchecked discretion to governors like South Carolina’s Henry McMaster, who has made no secret of his desire to eliminate abortion access altogether. If these actions are now unchallengeable in court, states can act with near impunity—denying healthcare access in the name of ideology.

Religious Rhetoric Masquerading as Law

The Freedom Center frames this decision in stark theological terms. According to their article, the ruling is not just a legal victory—it is a “Christian” one. They cite Scripture, claim to act in the name of Jesus, and assert that governments are “tasked by God to restrain evil.” This is a vision of governance not rooted in the Constitution or the Bill of Rights, but in a theocratic reinterpretation of American democracy.

This is especially chilling when one considers that Liberty University is not merely a religious institution but a political machine—one with deep ties to the Republican Party and far-right policy networks. Through this lens, Medina is not about “protecting life,” but about using state power to enforce a specific religious worldview, regardless of the collateral damage to women, LGBTQ+ individuals, and poor families.

The Broader Agenda: Criminalizing Reproductive Autonomy

Since the fall of Roe v. Wade, we’ve seen a steady escalation of attacks not just on abortion rights, but on reproductive autonomy more broadly—including access to contraception, gender-affirming care, and maternal health services. The Medina decision emboldens state-level campaigns to further criminalize, defund, and stigmatize reproductive healthcare. Liberty University’s Freedom Center doesn’t shy away from this broader agenda—they celebrate it.

They claim that Planned Parenthood “profits off abortion” and “distributes dangerous gender-transition drugs to minors”—a set of dog-whistle phrases designed to provoke fear and reinforce transphobic, misogynistic tropes. These claims lack evidence, but they serve a strategic function: demonizing reproductive healthcare providers and setting the stage for more sweeping restrictions and persecutions.

The Real Cost: Educated Underclass and the Erosion of Public Health

This ruling and the rhetoric around it disproportionately affect working-class women, students, and Black and brown communities. As colleges increasingly serve nontraditional, low-income, and first-generation students, many of whom rely on Medicaid, these policies create new barriers to health, education, and economic mobility.

We must ask: who benefits from the creation of an underclass without access to healthcare or legal recourse? Who profits from forcing women to carry unwanted pregnancies while cutting funding for childcare, education, and public health? The answer isn’t God—it’s a political and economic elite that thrives on disempowerment, all while hiding behind the cross.

Orwellian Freedom

The Supreme Court’s Medina decision is not a victory for “freedom” but a blow to democratic rights and healthcare access. Liberty University’s Freedom Center celebrates it not as a legal analysis, but as a religious crusade. Their euphemistic language about “protecting life” and “comprehensive care” distracts from the real consequences: more suffering, fewer options, and deepening inequality.

The Higher Education Inquirer stands in opposition to this dystopian vision. We support the rights of students, workers, and families to access comprehensive, evidence-based healthcare—free from political and religious coercion. This fight is not just about abortion—it is about the right to bodily autonomy, the right to sue the government when it harms you, and the right to live free from imposed theological rule.

Liberty Lost: A Stark Look at Faith, Power, and Reproductive Coercion at Liberty University

In the new podcast Liberty Lost, journalist T.J. Raphael uncovers a deeply unsettling system operating within the bounds of one of America’s largest evangelical universities. Set in the heart of Lynchburg, Virginia, at Liberty University, the story centers around the Liberty Godparent Home—a little-known facility for pregnant teens with close institutional and ideological ties to the university founded by Jerry Falwell Sr.

What begins as a place of supposed refuge for young, unmarried women who become pregnant quickly reveals itself to be a pressure chamber for coerced adoption—wrapped in Christian fundamentalist dogma and amplified by the material incentives of access to a Liberty University education. For some girls, like Abbi, the protagonist of the podcast’s first episodes, the cost of obedience is not only personal but generational.

The podcast, released by Wondery and available on all major platforms, chronicles Abbi’s harrowing journey into the Liberty Godparent Home, where she’s isolated from her family and friends, counseled by religious figures with a clear agenda, and told in no uncertain terms that “God wants her baby to go to a more deserving Christian couple.” Behind the language of “choice” and “support,” the message is clear: parenting is discouraged, and adoption is moralized.

These adoptions are not only shaped by theology but by an implicit transaction. Girls who go through with adoption are more likely to receive full scholarships to Liberty University. Refuse, and they risk being cast aside—denied the academic support and financial stability promised by the institution. It’s a system in which teenage girls’ reproductive choices are entangled with Liberty’s brand of moral authority, educational opportunity, and patriarchal control.

Raphael carefully weaves together interviews with former residents, including those who’ve grown into adulthood haunted by the trauma of giving up their children. Their stories span decades, and together they paint a picture of a deeply entrenched culture of reproductive coercion masked as Christian charity. The podcast also traces how these practices—long thought to have faded after the peak of “maternity homes” in the 20th century—are resurging in post-Roe America. Liberty is not an outlier, but rather a flagship in a growing movement.

The implications for higher education are chilling. Liberty University, already known for its regressive social policies and political entanglements, appears to be operating a pipeline where vulnerable teens are funneled through a reproductive system designed to serve religious ideology and institutional branding, rather than their own well-being. It’s not just a question of faith—it’s a question of ethics, autonomy, and what happens when educational institutions leverage opportunity against obedience.

Liberty Lost should serve as a call to investigate not just one university or one home, but an entire network of under-regulated faith-based institutions profiting—spiritually and materially—from the forced sacrifices of young women. At a time when the nation’s reproductive rights are under siege, the podcast is both a warning and a demand: to listen, to document, and to hold accountable those who wield education as a weapon.

For those interested in the intersections of religion, power, and reproductive justice in U.S. higher education, Liberty Lost is essential listening—and a sobering reminder that the struggle for bodily autonomy does not end at the gates of a university. It may very well begin there.

Supreme Court Ruling Threatens Healthcare Access for Working-Class College Women

In a landmark ruling on June 26, the U.S. Supreme Court sided with South Carolina in its effort to defund Planned Parenthood by excluding it from the state’s Medicaid program. The Court’s 6-3 decision, issued along ideological lines, has far-reaching consequences that extend well beyond the politics of abortion. At stake is the ability of Medicaid recipients to challenge state actions that restrict access to qualified healthcare providers, and among those most affected are working-class women—particularly those trying to build better futures through higher education.

For millions of low-income students, particularly women attending community colleges, for-profit institutions, and public universities, Medicaid and Planned Parenthood are vital safety nets. These students often juggle full course loads with jobs, caregiving responsibilities, and personal financial struggles. For them, Planned Parenthood has been more than a provider of abortion services. It offers birth control, cancer screenings, STI testing, reproductive counseling, and referrals for other necessary medical care. In many areas, especially in the South and rural regions like South Carolina, Planned Parenthood is one of the few accessible providers that treat Medicaid patients with dignity and without judgment.

The Supreme Court’s ruling removes the legal power of those patients to sue when a state excludes such providers from the Medicaid program, even if those providers are otherwise qualified. In her dissent, Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson wrote that this decision would result in "tangible harm to real people," depriving Medicaid recipients of their only meaningful way to enforce rights Congress granted them. And she’s right. The ruling effectively silences the most vulnerable people in the healthcare system—people who are too poor to pay out of pocket and too marginalized to be heard in political decision-making.

For working-class women in college, this decision could be devastating. When they lose access to affordable reproductive healthcare, their academic goals are put at risk. The ability to plan pregnancies, receive prenatal care, or treat chronic reproductive health issues is foundational to educational persistence and success. Without it, students may drop out due to unplanned pregnancies, untreated health conditions, or overwhelming financial strain. This outcome is particularly likely for women of color, who are already overrepresented in low-income student populations and underrepresented in graduation rates.

The myth that working-class women have “plenty of other options” falls apart under scrutiny. In South Carolina, nearly 40 percent of counties are considered “contraceptive deserts,” areas where access to affordable contraception is limited or nonexistent. While the state claims there are over a hundred other clinics available, many of these lack the staffing, specialization, or welcoming environment of Planned Parenthood. In practice, the choice is not between providers—it’s between care and no care.

Beyond immediate healthcare impacts, the ruling has structural implications for the political economy of both education and health. It reveals how deeply interlinked these systems are, and how the erosion of rights in one domain—healthcare—directly undermines access and equity in another—education. This is not an isolated case. It fits into a broader strategy by right-wing legislators and courts to control reproductive autonomy, silence poor people’s legal recourse, and undermine public systems that serve the working class.

It also exposes the hypocrisy of institutions and corporations that profit from inequality. As this ruling was being issued, ads for Hillsdale College and the University of Phoenix appeared alongside the coverage, promoting liberty and career advancement while healthcare infrastructure for their target demographics crumbles. This is the business model of disaster capitalism—undermine public goods, then monetize the chaos.

The consequences will be real and immediate. A working mother studying to become a nurse or teacher may now have to miss classes or drop out because she cannot get a Pap smear, refill her birth control, or find prenatal care. A young Black student in a Southern community college may now have no place to turn when she needs reproductive health services. A low-income family may be forced into debt to treat a preventable condition that would have been caught in a routine screening at Planned Parenthood. These are not hypothetical scenarios. They are the daily realities of an educated underclass pushed further to the margins.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to follow this story as GOP-led states are expected to follow South Carolina’s lead, and as advocacy organizations brace for a long and difficult fight. For now, the Supreme Court’s decision stands as a sobering reminder that health, education, and justice in America remain deeply entangled—and increasingly inaccessible—for those without wealth or political power.

Thursday, June 26, 2025

Murky Waters 2: Ambow Education, Chinese Influence, and US Edtech, 2013-2025

In Chinese culture, there’s an old proverb: “混水摸鱼” — “In murky waters, it is easier to catch fish.” The lesson is clear: confusion and opacity benefit those looking to manipulate outcomes for personal gain. In politics, finance, and international affairs, it is a warning. In the case of Ambow Education Holding Ltd., it may be a roadmap.

On June 26, 2025, Ambow announced a partnership with the tiny University of the West (UWest), a Buddhist college in Rosemead, California, enrolling just 153 students. The deal will implement Ambow’s HybriU platform—a so-called “phygital” learning solution combining digital and physical education delivery—positioning the technology as a tool for expanding U.S. academic access to international students. But a closer look reveals a story less about educational innovation than about power, soft influence, and the financialization of struggling institutions.

Ambow, a Cayman Islands–registered and formerly Beijing-based EdTech firm, has quietly entrenched itself in U.S. higher education. While other sectors of the U.S. economy—especially semiconductors and AI—have become more cautious of Chinese-linked investment due to national security concerns, American higher education remains notably exposed. The Ambow-UWest partnership exemplifies that vulnerability.

This is not Ambow’s first foray into U.S. academia. In 2013, the company was delisted from the New York Stock Exchange and liquidated after accusations of accounting irregularities. Rebranded and restructured offshore, Ambow re-entered the market, acquiring distressed for-profit colleges. In 2017, it bought Bay State College in Boston. Three years later, Massachusetts fined the school $1.1 million for fraudulent advertising, inflated placement rates, and illegal telemarketing. The school shuttered in 2023 after eliminating key services, including its library, and squandering pandemic-era federal aid.

In 2020, Ambow acquired the NewSchool of Architecture and Design in San Diego. Since then, NewSchool has appeared on the U.S. Department of Education’s Heightened Cash Monitoring 2 list, signifying severe financial instability. Lawsuits followed, including one for unpaid rent and another over compensation disputes involving the school’s former president.

Still, Ambow continues to market itself as a leader in “AI-driven” phygital innovation. HybriU, its flagship platform, has been promoted at edtech and investor conferences like CES and ASU-GSV, with lofty promises about immersive education and intelligent classrooms. But the evidence is thin. The platform’s website contains vague marketing language, no peer-reviewed validation, no public client list, and stock images masquerading as real users. Its core technology, OOOK (One-on-One Knowledge), was piloted in China in 2021 but shows no signs of adoption by credible U.S. institutions.

Why, then, would a college like University of the West—or potentially a major public institution like Colorado State University (CSU), reportedly exploring a partnership with Ambow—risk associating with such an entity?

To understand the stakes, we must follow the money and the power behind the brand.

Ambow’s largest shareholder bloc is controlled by Jian-Yue Pan (aka Pan Jianyue), a Chinese executive with deep ties to the country’s tech and investment elite. Pan is general partner of CEIHL Partners I and II, two Cayman Islands entities that control roughly 26.7 percent of Ambow’s publicly floated Class A shares. He also chairs Uphill Investment Co., which is active in the semiconductor and electronics sectors, and holds board positions in tech firms with connections to Tsinghua University—one of China’s premier talent pipelines for its national strategic industries.

Pan’s voting control over Ambow gives him sweeping influence over its corporate decisions, executive appointments, and strategic direction. His role raises critical concerns about the use of U.S. higher education infrastructure as a potential channel for data access, market expansion, and soft geopolitical influence.

To further legitimize its U.S. operations, Ambow recently appointed James Bartholomew as company president. Bartholomew’s resume includes controversial stints at DeVry University and Adtalem Global Education. While at DeVry, the institution was fined $100 million by the FTC for deceptive marketing. At Adtalem, he oversaw operations criticized for offshore medical schools and active resistance to gainful employment regulations.

Even Ambow’s financial underpinnings are suspect. Its R&D spending hovers around $100,000 per quarter—trivial for a firm purporting to lead in AI and immersive tech. Its audits are performed by Prouden CPA, a virtually unknown Chinese firm, not one of the major global accounting networks. These red flags suggest not a dynamic tech company, but a shell operation kept afloat by hype, misdirection, and strategic ambiguity.

That makes its ambitions in U.S. public education all the more dangerous.

Reports that Colorado State University—a land-grant institution managing sensitive federal research—may be considering a partnership with Ambow should prompt urgent scrutiny. Has CSU conducted a full cybersecurity and national security risk assessment? Have university stakeholders—faculty, students, and the public—been involved in the review process? Or is the university racing blindly into an agreement driven by budget pressures and buzzwords?

American higher education has long been susceptible to bad actors promising solutions to enrollment declines and funding shortfalls. But in recent years, the cost of these decisions has grown. With campuses increasingly dependent on international student tuition and digital platforms, the door has opened to exploitative operators and geopolitical influence.

Ambow has already shuttered one U.S. college. Its remaining campus is on shaky footing. Its technology lacks serious vetting. Its leadership is tethered to past scandals. And its largest shareholder has interests far beyond education.

This is not just about Ambow. It is about the structural vulnerabilities in American higher education—an industry ripe for manipulation by financial speculators, tech opportunists, and foreign actors operating with impunity. The murky waters of privatized, digitized education reward those who operate without transparency.

Public universities must remember who they serve: students, faculty, and the public—not offshore shareholders or unproven platforms.

If Colorado State or any other institution moves forward with Ambow, they owe the public clear answers: What protections are in place? What risks are being considered? Who really controls the platforms delivering instruction? And most importantly, why are public institutions turning to unstable, opaque companies for core educational delivery?

As the proverb reminds us, murky waters are fertile ground for hidden agendas. But education, above all, demands clarity, integrity, and public accountability.