Wake Forest and Kaplan: Selling Prestige in a Predatory Credential Market

Wake Forest University, a private institution with a proud 185-year history, has long marketed itself as a place for ethical leadership and elite scholarship. But its recent partnership with Kaplan—an infamous name in for-profit education and test prep—raises serious questions about the erosion of academic integrity and the corporatization of American higher education.

Wake Forest’s online offerings, now delivered in collaboration with Kaplan, are dressed in glowing promotional language. Prospective students are promised access to “a global network of 80,000+ alumni,” “1-on-1 guidance from a dedicated Student Success Manager,” and a curriculum shaped by “a Program Advisory Board of diverse business leaders.” The university assures working professionals that they can “earn a 100% online master’s degree or graduate certificate” on their own terms, with a “streamlined admissions process” and “flexible courses.”

But strip away the buzzwords and what’s left is a degree-granting operation outsourced to a for-profit education company with a controversial legacy. Kaplan, now owned by Graham Holdings (formerly the parent company of The Washington Post), has been at the center of lawsuits, regulatory scrutiny, and allegations of exploitative practices in its higher ed ventures—including its role in managing Purdue Global, formerly Kaplan University. The company has a long history of targeting vulnerable populations—especially working-class adults—with high-cost, low-value credentials that often don’t lead to the promised career outcomes.

So why is Wake Forest—an elite university with a storied reputation—collaborating with Kaplan?

The answer is simple: profit and scale.

In an era when even wealthy private universities are looking to expand their revenue streams, online education has become a lucrative frontier. But building and managing online degree programs in-house requires serious investment, time, and expertise. Enter Kaplan, which provides the infrastructure, marketing, enrollment management, and student support—all in exchange for a share of the revenue.

What does this mean for students?

It means that Wake Forest’s name is now being used to sell online degrees to mid-career professionals under the promise of prestige, convenience, and upward mobility—without the full intellectual, cultural, or communal experience that Wake Forest once symbolized. The degrees may bear the Wake Forest seal, but they are increasingly indistinguishable from the mass-produced credentials churned out by dozens of other universities that have sold access to their brands through partnerships with Online Program Managers (OPMs) like Kaplan, 2U, Wiley, and Coursera.

The “1-on-1 Student Success Manager” may sound supportive, but in practice these positions are often little more than call center roles staffed by Kaplan employees trained to ensure retention and upsell future courses—not to engage in meaningful academic mentorship.

The curriculum may be “developed and led by recognized faculty and industry experts,” but in many cases these are adjunct instructors or contract workers who have limited interaction with students and little say in the structure or pedagogy of the courses. This model contributes to the broader exploitation of contingent academic labor—an issue Wake Forest, like many elite universities, prefers not to discuss.

And the promise of becoming a leader “from anywhere” with a Wake Forest SPS degree? That too should be questioned. These degrees exist in an increasingly saturated credential market where employers are skeptical, return on investment is uncertain, and students often find themselves saddled with debt and disappointment.

If Wake Forest were truly committed to ethical leadership, it would take a hard look at the implications of commodifying its brand through a partnership with a company like Kaplan. Instead, it has chosen to chase market share and tuition revenue at the expense of its academic credibility—and at the risk of misleading students who believe they’re buying into the full Wake Forest experience.

The truth is this: Wake Forest is selling the illusion of prestige, wrapped in a glossy brochure of online convenience and corporate optimism. In reality, it’s another cog in a profit-driven machine that markets higher education as a product rather than a public good. And that’s not transformative change. That’s business as usual in the credential economy.

When Technology Can’t Outrun Environmental Collapse: The High Cost of Crypto and Other Energy-Hungry Innovations

There is a persistent narrative that technology will save humanity from the mounting environmental crises—climate change, resource depletion, and pollution—that threaten the planet. From clean energy breakthroughs to smart agriculture, the promise is that innovation will outpace destruction. But this optimism overlooks a harsh reality: many of today’s most advanced technologies, especially those that consume vast amounts of energy like cryptocurrencies, exacerbate environmental harm instead of reducing it. The earth’s ecological limits are too strict and immediate for technology alone to fix.

A key factor missing from many discussions is the concept of externalities—costs or damages that are not reflected in the market price of goods or services. Both economic and environmental externalities mean that the true price of technologies is often hidden from consumers, producers, and policymakers alike. When a technology harms the environment but doesn’t pay for that damage, the costs are effectively “externalized” to society and future generations.

Cryptocurrency Mining: An Externality Nightmare

Take cryptocurrency mining, especially Bitcoin, as a striking example. Bitcoin’s “proof of work” system demands enormous computing power, consuming electricity on the scale of entire countries such as Argentina or the Netherlands. However, the market price of Bitcoin does not include the environmental cost of that energy use—carbon emissions, air pollution, and water resource depletion are externalities borne by the planet, not the miners or investors.

Many crypto mining operations cluster in regions with cheap, carbon-intensive electricity. The associated greenhouse gas emissions accelerate climate change, but these environmental costs remain unaccounted for in economic transactions. Similarly, the rapid turnover of specialized mining hardware produces vast amounts of electronic waste that is seldom recycled properly, leaking toxins into ecosystems. These negative externalities are seldom reflected in the price of cryptocurrencies or factored into regulatory frameworks.

Other Technologies and Their Hidden Costs

It’s not only crypto. Artificial intelligence training requires massive computational resources that consume significant electricity, often generated by fossil fuels. Streaming services, cloud data centers, and the explosion of connected devices—collectively the “Internet of Things”—demand continuous power, driving emissions that are not typically included in consumer bills or corporate balance sheets.

The production of smartphones, laptops, and other electronics relies on mining scarce and environmentally damaging materials like lithium, cobalt, and rare earth elements. The social and ecological externalities here include habitat destruction, water pollution, and labor exploitation in vulnerable communities.

Even as companies promote efficiency gains, the rebound effect—where increased efficiency lowers costs and leads to increased consumption—means that total resource use continues to grow, magnifying external environmental harm.

Why Externalities Matter

Externalities are a core reason why technological innovation alone cannot save the environment. Without mechanisms to internalize these costs—through regulations, taxes, or market reforms—businesses and consumers have little incentive to change behavior. Technologies that appear profitable on paper may, in reality, impose devastating costs on ecosystems, human health, and climate stability.

Economic externalities can also distort investment priorities, leading to overinvestment in high-energy, resource-intensive technologies while underfunding sustainable alternatives that carry less hidden damage.

Toward a Holistic Solution

Addressing environmental destruction demands recognizing and correcting these externalities. Policies that tax carbon emissions, regulate electronic waste, and require transparency in supply chains can help internalize the true costs of technologies. Public awareness and ethical consumer choices also play a role in pressuring companies and governments.

Higher education institutions must contribute by researching externalities associated with emerging technologies and educating future leaders about sustainability challenges. Only by confronting the real costs behind innovation can society make wiser choices.

The Tech Future 

Technology is neither a guaranteed savior nor an inherent villain. It reflects the values and systems that shape its creation and deployment. Without reckoning with economic and environmental externalities, technological advances risk deepening rather than alleviating ecological crises. A sustainable future requires systemic change that prioritizes ecological limits and social justice—not just faster chips and smarter algorithms.

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Sources:

• University of Cambridge Bitcoin Electricity Consumption Index (2025)

• Strubell, Emma, et al. “Energy and Policy Considerations for Deep Learning in NLP.” ACL 2019

• Carlson, Shawn. “Bitcoin’s Energy Consumption Is a Problem—But It’s Not the Whole Problem.” Scientific American, 2022

• International Energy Agency (IEA). “Data Centres and Data Transmission Networks,” 2023

• Ghisellini, Patrizia, et al. “Environmental Sustainability of Rare Earth Elements: A Review.” Journal of Cleaner Production, 2024

• The Shift Project. “Lean ICT: Towards Digital Sobriety,” 2019

• Pigou, Arthur C. The Economics of Welfare (1920) — foundational theory on externalities

HEI Files FOIA to Expose Delays and Disparities in Borrower Defense Discharges

The Higher Education Inquirer has submitted a Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) request to the U.S. Department of Education, seeking critical data on Borrower Defense to Repayment claims tied to some of the most notorious for-profit and career college chains in the United States. Filed on July 13, 2025, and formally acknowledged by the Department on July 14, this request seeks to uncover how many borrowers have received student debt relief, how many remain in limbo, and how many have been left in the dark despite being eligible.

The FOIA request includes a list of institutions with long histories of documented fraud, federal investigations, lawsuits, and closures. These include Corinthian Colleges (which operated Everest, Heald, and WyoTech), ITT Technical Institute, Westwood College, Marinello Schools of Beauty, the Art Institutes, Argosy University, American National University, Charlotte School of Law, DeVry University, Globe University/Minnesota School of Business, Independence University, Kaplan College/Kaplan University, Le Cordon Bleu, Missouri College, Mount Washington College, University of Phoenix, Virginia College, and Vatterott College.

For each institution, the Inquirer is requesting the number of borrowers identified for group discharge under the Borrower Defense authority. Of those, we are asking how many have had their loans discharged, how many cases remain pending, how many borrowers have been approved for discharge but not yet notified, and how many claims overlap with the class-action lawsuit Sweet v. McMahon (formerly Sweet v. Cardona and Sweet v. DeVos). For Corinthian Colleges specifically, the request also asks for the number of discharged borrowers under previous Department announcements and how many were also part of the Manriquez v. McMahon or Sweet settlements.

This data request covers the one-year period from July 13, 2024, to July 13, 2025, and asks for results in a structured, electronic format, preferably Excel.

The significance of this request cannot be overstated. Despite multiple well-publicized borrower defense settlements and mass discharge announcements, many defrauded students still have no clear idea whether they qualify for relief or when it might arrive. While the Department has made headlines for forgiving billions in student debt, especially for borrowers from predatory for-profit schools, those announcements often lack transparency and specificity. The FOIA request aims to fill those gaps and provide an accurate picture of the Department’s implementation of debt relief and justice for defrauded borrowers.

The Department of Education’s FOIA Service Center responded that the request has been received and is in queue. No further clarification is needed at this time, and no fees have been assessed. The Department did note that the current average processing time is 185 business days—over nine months. This timeline means that meaningful public disclosure may not happen until spring 2026, even as policymakers, advocates, and student debtors continue to push for faster relief and more accountability.

This FOIA request is part of the Higher Education Inquirer's ongoing efforts to investigate the afterlife of failed for-profit colleges, the bureaucratic delays in loan discharges, and the long shadow these schools have cast over the lives of working-class students. In many cases, these students were the first in their families to attend college and were aggressively targeted by institutions that promised fast-track careers and delivered financial ruin instead.

We will continue to monitor the Department’s response and will publish any findings we receive. If you are a former student of one of these schools and have filed a Borrower Defense claim—or have questions about whether you qualify—we invite you to share your experience. Your voice matters, and transparency is key to understanding how widespread the damage remains.

Contact the Higher Education Inquirer at gmcghee@aya.yale.edu.

Sources
U.S. Department of Education FOIA Acknowledgment Letter, July 14, 2025
FOIA Request No. 25-04397-F
Sweet v. Cardona (formerly Sweet v. DeVos), Case No. 19-cv-03674, N.D. Cal.
Manriquez v. DeVos, Case No. 3:17-cv-07210, N.D. Cal.
U.S. Department of Education Borrower Defense Updates – studentaid.gov

Did Higher Education Ever Have a Soul? A Response to Frank Bruni

In his New York Times opinion piece, “I’m Watching the Sacrifice of College’s Soul,” Frank Bruni laments the erosion of academic rigor and the rise of artificial intelligence in the college classroom. He worries that students read less, care more about networking, and rely too much on AI to write their papers. And he ties this perceived moral decay to the broader culture war era under a second Trump administration.

But if we are truly asking whether college has lost its soul, the answer lies not just in classroom etiquette, grade inflation, or even AI. These are surface symptoms. The deeper rot goes back much further—and runs much deeper.

In 2025, as student debt surpasses $2 trillion, adjuncts live paycheck to paycheck, and billion-dollar university endowments sit idle amid growing social crises, the question lingers like a ghost in the lecture hall: Did higher education ever have a soul?

Bruni suggests that something noble has been lost. But to mourn a fall from grace assumes there was grace to begin with. It assumes the soul of higher education was once intact—whole, ethical, virtuous. That assumption demands interrogation.

A Soul in Theory
From the founding of Harvard in 1636 to the post-WWII GI Bill expansion, there have always been idealistic threads: Socratic dialogue, liberal education, shared governance, land-grant missions to uplift the working class. Thinkers like John Dewey and W.E.B. Du Bois believed that education could be democratic and emancipatory, a crucible for ethical development and social justice.

But for every Du Bois, there was a Booker T. Washington being positioned to serve capitalism. For every land-grant university, there were extractive relationships with Indigenous lands and communities. For every golden age of college access, there were doors closed to women, Black Americans, and the working poor.

The soul, it seems, has always lived uneasily beside the dollar.

The Neoliberal Turn
In the last half-century, the contradictions have only grown starker. Beginning in the late 1970s and accelerating in the Reagan era, higher education became increasingly privatized, commodified, and financialized. Universities morphed into entrepreneurial corporations, presidents became CEOs, students became customers, and faculty became precarious gig workers. The soul of higher education—if ever there was one—was sold off in pieces. Not in a single transaction, but through thousands of small decisions: outsourcing food services, patenting research, expanding sports empires, launching predatory online programs, partnering with Wall Street, and calling it “innovation.”

Today, we see the results:

For-profit colleges and edtech firms exploiting vulnerable populations.

Public universities chasing out-of-state tuition while abandoning their mission to serve local and working-class communities.

DEI initiatives used as branding while workers on campus remain underpaid, underinsured, and over-policed.

Boards of trustees stacked with bankers, developers, and tech executives more loyal to markets than to mission.

And beyond the classrooms that Bruni mourns, darker truths persist—truths rarely explored in glossy alumni magazines or New York Times op-eds:

Fraternities continue to operate as quasi-criminal enterprises, protected by wealthy alumni and timid administrations. Hazing deaths, sexual assault, racial abuse, and alcohol-fueled violence are treated as unfortunate exceptions, rather than the predictable outcomes of a toxic culture of entitlement and silence.

NCAA football, the crown jewel of many flagship universities, thrives on the unpaid labor of student-athletes whose bodies are sacrificed for weekend entertainment and television contracts. Behind the pageantry lie lifelong injuries, untreated concussions, and a trail of lawsuits over traumatic brain damage—while coaches and athletic directors rake in seven-figure salaries.

These are not footnotes to the story of higher education’s moral decline. They are the story—central to understanding what kind of “soul” has actually animated American higher education for decades.

A Soul in Struggle
Yet to say higher education never had a soul would be to erase the people who have fought—and still fight—for it to matter.

The soul has lived in the pushback: in student protests for civil rights and against apartheid; in hunger strikes for living wages and union recognition; in the quiet resilience of community college faculty who refuse to give up on their students despite impossible workloads and poverty wages. It’s found in the Black campus movements of the 1960s and today, in the labor organizing of adjuncts and graduate students, and in underfunded tribal colleges and HBCUs resisting systemic neglect.

And the soul is alive in critique itself—in those willing to ask not only what students are learning, but why the university exists, who it serves, and who it exploits.

Where Do We Go from Here?
Frank Bruni mourns the death of something noble. But perhaps what’s dying isn’t the soul of higher education—it’s the illusion that the soul was ever fully alive within institutions so deeply enmeshed in money, hierarchy, and exclusion.

If higher education once had a soul, it now lies fragmented—compromised by institutional betrayal, bureaucratic inertia, and a corporate logic that values prestige over people. But to ask whether it ever had a soul is to ask whether the soul resides in institutions at all, or in the people struggling within and against them.

Perhaps we shouldn’t romanticize the past, but neither should we resign ourselves to the present.

The soul of higher education may never have been whole. But it has always been contested. And in that contest—between commerce and conscience, exclusion and liberation, silence and speech—we may yet find the spark to reimagine what education could be.

Because if the university is to be saved, its soul must be fought for—not assumed, and certainly not bought.

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Sources:

• Bruni, Frank. “I’m Watching the Sacrifice of College’s Soul.” New York Times, July 14, 2025.

• U.S. Department of Education. Federal Student Aid Portfolio Summary. https://studentaid.gov/data-center

• The Century Foundation. “The Adjunct Crisis.”

• Flanagan, Caitlin. “Death at a Penn State Fraternity.” The Atlantic, November 2017.

• NPR. “Inside the Secret World of College Fraternities.”

• ESPN. “Concussion Lawsuits and the NCAA.”

• The Chronicle of Higher Education. “How Billion-Dollar Endowments Avoid Spending.”

• The Guardian. “Inside America’s College Debt Machine.”

• American Association of University Professors (AAUP). “Trends in Faculty Employment Status.”

• The Intercept. “EdTech and the Exploitation of Students.”

• Washington Post. “DEI for PR, Not for Pay.”

• Inside Higher Ed. “Boards of Trustees: Who They Really Represent.”

• NLRB Rulings and Union Filings, 2010–2025.

Supreme Court Greenlights Layoffs and Department Dismantling: What It Means for the Future of U.S. Education

The U.S. Supreme Court has allowed the Trump administration to move forward with its plan to lay off nearly 1,400 employees from the U.S. Department of Education. The decision permits the administration to resume work on reducing the department’s operations, a step that critics argue amounts to a closure of the agency.

The Court issued its ruling through the shadow docket, without explanation, and with the three liberal justices dissenting. The order pauses a lower court injunction issued by U.S. District Judge Myong Joun in Boston, who wrote that the layoffs would reduce the department’s capacity to fulfill its legal responsibilities. A federal appeals court had refused to stay Joun’s ruling while the administration appealed.

President Trump, in a post on his social media platform, praised the ruling, saying it would allow his administration to begin transferring functions of the department to the states. Education Secretary Linda McMahon also welcomed the decision, stating that the president has authority over agency operations and staffing.

Justice Sonia Sotomayor, writing in dissent with Justices Ketanji Brown Jackson and Elena Kagan, said the Court was allowing the executive branch to bypass legal limits. “When the Executive publicly announces its intent to break the law, and then executes on that promise, it is the Judiciary’s duty to check that lawlessness, not expedite it,” she wrote.

Two lawsuits, now consolidated, challenge the administration’s plan. One was filed by the Somerville and Easthampton school districts in Massachusetts, along with the American Federation of Teachers and other education groups. The other was filed by a group of 21 attorneys general. The lawsuits argue that the layoffs prevent the department from carrying out functions required by Congress.

Skye Perryman, president of Democracy Forward, which represents the plaintiffs, criticized the Court’s action. “Without explaining to the American people its reasoning, a majority of justices on the U.S. Supreme Court have dealt a blow to this nation’s promise of public education for all children,” she said.

The layoffs affect about 1,100 civil servants and 250 contractors. Since March, these employees have been on paid leave. Judge Joun’s injunction prevented their termination, though they have not been allowed to return to work. The Education Department had stated it was reviewing how to reintegrate them and asked staff to disclose other employment.

The Court’s decision is one of several recent rulings in favor of the administration’s efforts to reduce the size and scope of the federal government. Last week, the justices permitted the administration to implement a plan to reduce the federal workforce. The Court has also previously allowed cuts to teacher-training grants.

On the same day as the ruling, over 20 states filed suit against the administration over frozen federal education funding for after-school programs and summer initiatives.

While the lawsuit over the department's dismantling continues in federal court, the Supreme Court's decision allows the administration to proceed with layoffs that could reduce the department’s ability to function. If the courts later find the plan illegal, the department's infrastructure may already be altered.

Sources:

• Associated Press

• NBC News

• U.S. District Court (Judge Myong Joun)

• Democracy Forward

• Trump social platform

• U.S. Department of Education internal communications

• AFGE Local 252

Springer Nature, Fake Science, and the Deep Rot in Academic Publishing

Springer Nature, one of the world's largest and most prestigious academic publishers, is at the center of a growing storm over scientific credibility and the integrity of scholarly communication. Recent investigations—including a revealing article from the Dutch newspaper Het Financieele Dagblad—have exposed how fraudulent science has infiltrated top academic journals through so-called “paper mills,” where fake research is produced and sold to meet the pressure-cooker demands of the modern academic economy.

With over 9,400 employees and operations in more than 40 countries, Springer Nature is a colossal force in global publishing. Its annual revenue for 2024 was projected to reach as high as €1.85 billion, driven largely by thousands of journals across disciplines—from Nature Neuroscience and Nature Biotechnology to niche journals in pharmacology, machine vision, and business studies. It also owns the venerable Scientific American, one of the most recognizable science magazines in the English-speaking world.

But behind this massive publishing empire is a deeply flawed system—a system in which prestige and profit have become entangled, and where the imperative to “publish or perish” leads scholars to compromise ethical standards, sometimes relying on ghostwritten or entirely fabricated studies. Springer Nature and its peers, including Elsevier and Wiley, have faced mounting challenges in vetting the sheer volume of submissions, many of which are now known to be fraudulent. While publishers claim they are working to correct these issues, critics argue that such efforts are reactive, inadequate, and motivated more by public relations than a commitment to scientific rigor.

This crisis is not occurring in a vacuum. Springer Nature is not just a passive player victimized by bad actors; it is part of a profit-driven system that thrives on volume and prestige. The company has been preparing for a lucrative IPO, which valued its equity at €4.5 billion in late 2024. Its business model, like that of its competitors, relies on a steady flow of academic content—produced, reviewed, and edited largely by unpaid researchers—and then sold back to universities and libraries at exorbitant subscription fees.

This closed-access economy means that publicly funded research is often locked behind paywalls, inaccessible to the public and even to institutions with limited budgets. It’s a double-dip: taxpayers fund the research, then institutions must pay again to access the results. Meanwhile, authors surrender copyright to publishers, losing control of their own work. Academic libraries, especially at public and regional institutions, are left with shrinking access as journal subscription costs rise faster than inflation.

Springer Nature has positioned itself as a leader in open access, pledging that half of its primary research articles will be published open access in 2024. However, the open access model comes with its own set of problems. Author-pays fees can run into the thousands of dollars per article, creating a new kind of inequity where only well-funded researchers or institutions can afford to make their work accessible. This trend has led to the rise of predatory open-access journals, which exploit the model by charging fees without providing legitimate peer review.

The Higher Education Inquirer has previously documented how academic labor is exploited at every stage—from the graduate student submitting their first manuscript to the tenured professor reviewing papers without compensation. The recent revelations of widespread fraud, coupled with Springer Nature’s immense financial growth, should serve as a wake-up call. The academic publishing system is no longer merely a vehicle for knowledge sharing—it is a sprawling commercial enterprise riddled with ethical compromise.

The credibility of academic research is being eroded not just by dishonest authors, but by publishers who have allowed, and in some ways encouraged, the commodification of knowledge. With powerful institutions like Springer Nature at the helm, the scholarly publishing industry is in urgent need of structural reform—reform that prioritizes transparency, accountability, and public access over profit margins and market share.

Until then, the rot will persist beneath the glossy covers of high-impact journals, and the public’s trust in science—and higher education as a whole—will continue to suffer.

NEA, Trump, and Fascism

At the 2025 National Education Association (NEA) Representative Assembly in Portland, Oregon, the nation’s largest teachers union passed a resolution condemning Donald Trump and aligning itself against what it termed “fascism.” But the resolution went viral for all the wrong reasons—because the NEA misspelled “fascism” twice as “facism.” Critics pounced, and what might have been a serious political statement turned into a national punchline.

The NEA resolution declared that “the members and material resources of NEA must be committed to the defense of the democratic and educational conditions required for the survival of civilization itself” and pledged $3,500 in resources to support education against “facism.” The intent was clear: the union was signaling that Trump and his allies represent a threat to democracy and education. But the message was undermined by the basic literacy failure of the very educators tasked with teaching students how to spell.

The resolution passed in a closed-door session, as part of a growing trend among major unions to explicitly engage in anti-Trump activism. It also included language opposing Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) raids and called for support of “mass democratic movements” in response to Trump’s possible return to power. Further, the NEA reaffirmed its decision to disaffiliate from the Anti-Defamation League (ADL), citing concerns about the ADL’s stance on policing and Palestine.

The backlash was swift. Conservative pundits and right-wing lawmakers ridiculed the resolution’s spelling errors and denounced its political content as extremist. Representative Jim Walsh called it “hysterical slander” and mocked the NEA’s failure to meet even minimal professional standards. Moms for Liberty co-founder Tina Descovich said the NEA’s mistake exemplifies why many Americans believe public education is failing. Corey DeAngelis, a leading advocate for school choice, declared the situation “too rich to parody.”

The episode lit up right-wing media. The New York Post ran multiple pieces lampooning the union’s politics and literacy. Fox News accused the NEA of pushing a radical political agenda under the guise of professional development. Critics from across the political spectrum asked: how can educators credibly combat fascism if they can’t spell it?

But spelling errors aside, the deeper issue is the NEA’s increasing politicization in an already polarized era. While some educators and progressives cheered the resolution as a necessary stand against authoritarianism, others worried it would damage public trust in the profession and provide more ammunition for anti-union and school privatization forces.

The NEA has long walked a tightrope between its role as a labor union and as a political actor. In the Trump and post-Trump era, that tightrope is fraying. By elevating its political messaging—especially when done sloppily—the NEA risks alienating moderate members, energizing conservative opposition, and undermining its own credibility as a steward of public education.

This latest controversy may not be the NEA’s last misstep in an increasingly volatile political climate. But it is a cautionary tale. To confront genuine threats to democracy and education, unions must do more than pass resolutions. They must build trust, demonstrate competence, and articulate a vision that unites rather than divides. If they can’t even proofread their own declarations, the fight against fascism may start with a dictionary.

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Sources
National Education Association, Resolution NBI 79, 2025 Representative Assembly
New York Post, “Largest US teachers union mocked for misspelling 'fascism' in anti-Trump agenda item,” July 10, 2025
Fox News, “Teachers union reveals true colors behind closed doors at annual convention,” July 11, 2025
The Free Press, “NEA Teachers' Union Goes All In on Politics—And Spelling Errors,” July 11, 2025
WBZ News Radio, “Largest US Teachers Union Misspells ‘Fascism’ While Bashing Trump,” July 11, 2025
Yahoo News, “Social media erupts as nation's largest teachers union misspells 'fascism' in anti-Trump statement,” July 12, 2025

Elite Higher Education and the Epstein Files

The Jeffrey Epstein scandal is not just about the crimes of one man—it is a window into the pathology of elite power in America. At the center of Epstein’s network were not only celebrities and financiers, but the leaders of elite universities, powerful legal minds trained at Ivy League institutions, former presidents, cabinet officials, and judges. These individuals and institutions helped legitimize Epstein, enabled his abuse, and later participated in the cover-up—directly or through willful silence.

Epstein built his power not just through money, but through proximity to institutions that conferred prestige and trust. Harvard University accepted more than $9 million in donations from Epstein, even after his 2008 conviction for soliciting sex from a minor. Epstein was granted office space, invited to events, and listed in directories like a visiting fellow. Harvard only conducted an internal investigation years later, long after the damage had been done. MIT, through its Media Lab, secretly accepted Epstein’s donations while attempting to conceal his involvement. Director Joi Ito was forced to resign, but no criminal or civil penalties were imposed on university leadership. Stanford, the Santa Fe Institute, and other elite academic hubs welcomed Epstein into their conferences, roundtables, and salons. Some researchers claimed ignorance of his criminal record. Others looked away in exchange for funding.

The most visible defenders and enablers of Epstein included powerful figures in law and politics with close ties to elite academia. Alan Dershowitz, Harvard Law professor emeritus and one of Epstein’s longtime attorneys, was not only his legal defender but also named in sworn affidavits as someone to whom Epstein trafficked underage girls. Dershowitz has denied all allegations and launched a years-long legal campaign to discredit accusers and journalists. Yet Harvard has remained largely silent about his conduct, choosing not to distance itself meaningfully from a man who helped give Epstein the shield of institutional legitimacy.

Former President Bill Clinton, a Yale Law graduate and darling of global academic initiatives, flew on Epstein’s private jet over two dozen times. He has denied visiting Epstein’s private island or engaging in any misconduct, but flight logs, meeting records, and photos raise questions. Epstein donated to the Clinton Foundation, which partnered with numerous universities and research institutions. Clinton’s elite credentials helped whitewash Epstein’s image, just as Epstein used those connections to advance his own agenda.

The most disturbing developments have occurred more recently, with mounting evidence of a high-level cover-up that has delayed justice and protected powerful men. Government officials tied to elite education—Harvard, Yale, Columbia, Stanford—have played key roles in suppressing evidence. Former U.S. Attorney Alex Acosta, a Harvard Law graduate, brokered Epstein’s original 2008 plea deal in Florida. Acosta later claimed he was told Epstein “belonged to intelligence.” When Epstein was arrested again in 2019 and died in federal custody under suspicious circumstances, then–Attorney General William Barr oversaw the investigation. Barr, a Columbia graduate whose father once hired Epstein at the elite Dalton School despite Epstein lacking a degree, later insisted that the death was a suicide. No one in government has ever been held accountable for the failures that followed.

Federal judges reviewing Epstein-related cases and redacting the names of associates have largely come from the Ivy League pipeline. These judges, some of whom clerked for Supreme Court justices, have delayed the release of court documents, citing privacy concerns—often for public figures with deep institutional affiliations. The result has been a legal process that drags on for years while survivors wait for truth and the public is left in the dark.

This convergence of elite academia, elite law, and elite governance shows that the Epstein case is not an outlier but a reflection of a closed system. Epstein embedded himself in elite universities not to learn or teach, but to launder his image and buy access. The universities, desperate for funding and star power, let him. Government officials, trained by and connected to the same institutions, protected him. And when the truth threatened to surface, they slowed the release of files, discredited whistleblowers, and hid behind legal formalities.

What makes this scandal different from others in higher education is not just the scale of abuse, but the depth of institutional complicity. Universities cannot hide behind the claim of ignorance. Government officials cannot pretend to be impartial arbiters of justice when they are protecting their own.

If elite higher education wants to regain any moral authority, it must reckon honestly with the Epstein files—not just the names of those involved, but the systems that allowed it all to happen. That means disclosing donor histories, creating independent oversight mechanisms, and ending the culture of secrecy that shields the powerful. Otherwise, these institutions are not bastions of knowledge—they are sanctuaries for predators in suits and ties.

The real legacy of Jeffrey Epstein is not confined to courtrooms or island estates. It is inscribed in the halls of elite universities, in sealed court records, and in the offices of high-ranking officials who quietly ensured that justice was delayed and distorted. The question is not how this happened—but how many more like him remain hidden, protected by the same structures of prestige and power that allowed Epstein to thrive.

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Sources
Harvard University Office of the General Counsel, Report Concerning Jeffrey Epstein’s Donations, May 2020
Julie K. Brown, Perversion of Justice: The Jeffrey Epstein Story, Harper, 2021
The New Yorker, “How an Elite University Research Lab Hid Its Relationship with Jeffrey Epstein,” Ronan Farrow, September 2019
The New York Times, “Jeffrey Epstein Visited Clinton White House Multiple Times,” January 2022
Giuffre v. Maxwell court filings, U.S. District Court, SDNY, 2024
Department of Justice, Inspector General reports, 2020–2024
Public statements and court documents from Alan Dershowitz, Alex Acosta, William Barr
MIT Media Lab internal emails obtained by The New Yorker
Law.com reporting on Kirkland & Ellis’ involvement with Epstein’s legal defense
Dalton School employment records and biographical history of William Barr and Donald Barr

The Chronicle of Higher Education and the Knowledge Busine$$

As U.S. higher education faces unprecedented challenges—from shrinking budgets and declining enrollment to mounting public skepticism—the Chronicle of Higher Education (CHE) remains a key player in the academic landscape. Since its founding in 1966, CHE has evolved into more than just a news outlet; it is a complex knowledge business that provides employment to hundreds of journalists, editors, and professionals, while serving as an important information hub for higher education stakeholders.

In an era when many campus newspapers have shuttered and independent reporting has become scarce, CHE offers comprehensive coverage of policy shifts, labor disputes, campus culture, and academic research. Its newsroom employs writers and editors who specialize in the intricacies of higher education, providing analysis that is often essential for faculty, staff, and administrators trying to navigate rapid change.

Beyond journalism, CHE generates jobs in content marketing, event planning, data analytics, and consulting services targeted to university leaders. Through initiatives like Chronicle Intelligence, the organization supplies customized research, white papers, and executive education designed to help institutions manage enrollment, compliance, and strategic planning amid financial strain.

CHE also hosts conferences, webinars, and networking events, creating platforms where university administrators, policymakers, and vendors can exchange ideas and strategies. These gatherings not only generate revenue and jobs but foster a sense of community and shared problem-solving during turbulent times.

However, the Chronicle’s increasing involvement in sponsored content and consulting has raised important questions about its role. While it continues to provide valuable information and insight, it also serves as a marketing channel for vendors and a consultant to the very institutions it covers. This dual role complicates its editorial independence and shifts some focus toward solutions that emphasize branding, compliance, and managerial efficiency.

The promotional emails sent by CHE in mid-2025, for example, encouraged universities to “redesign research infrastructure” and tackle faculty burnout with new tools and processes, often linked to private vendors. These efforts highlight the Chronicle’s role in shaping how institutions respond to their challenges—but also reveal a tendency to prioritize market-friendly fixes over structural reforms.

Nevertheless, in a time of shrinking media coverage and growing complexity in higher education, the Chronicle remains a vital resource. Its ability to employ a dedicated staff of higher ed specialists and provide a steady flow of reporting and analysis is a significant contribution to the sector.

As colleges and universities continue to grapple with financial pressures, political conflicts, and social change, the Chronicle of Higher Education occupies a complex position: both a mirror reflecting higher education’s crises and a business offering pathways to adaptation and survival. Balancing these roles with editorial rigor and independence will be essential if CHE is to serve the broad range of voices and interests within American academia.

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Sources:

Shaulis, Dahn. The College Meltdown series, Higher Education Inquirer
The Chronicle of Higher Education promotional emails, July 2025
Chronicle Intelligence product descriptions, chronicle.com
Bousquet, Marc. How the University Works: Higher Education and the Low-Wage Nation. NYU Press
Newfield, Christopher. The Great Mistake: How We Wrecked Public Universities and How We Can Fix Them
Slaughter, Sheila and Rhoades, Gary. Academic Capitalism and the New Economy. Johns Hopkins University Press

Faith vs. Geology: Pangaea and the Great Deluge Theory at Liberty University

In the early 20th century, German scientist Alfred Wegener introduced the idea of continental drift, proposing that Earth's continents were once joined in a massive supercontinent called Pangaea. Though initially dismissed, his theory gained traction in the 1960s with the emergence of plate tectonics—a unifying model that explains how Earth's outer shell is divided into moving plates. This theory, now a cornerstone of modern geology, posits that Pangaea began to break apart roughly 230 million years ago, eventually forming the continents we recognize today. The overwhelming evidence for this process includes matching fossils on different continents, corresponding rock formations, and patterns in ancient species distribution. Radiometric dating techniques support the conclusion that Earth is about 4.54 billion years old, a timescale that allows for the slow, natural processes responsible for shaping the planet.

In stark contrast, Liberty University's Center for Creation Studies offers an alternative interpretation of Earth’s history rooted in a literal reading of the Bible. Situated in the Rawlings School of Divinity’s Freedom Tower—the tallest building in Lynchburg, Virginia—the Center teaches students to understand science through the lens of Genesis. Its Great Deluge Theory, based on the biblical account of Noah's Flood, rejects the mainstream scientific consensus. Instead of accepting that Earth’s continents drifted apart over hundreds of millions of years, the Center asserts that many geological features, including fossil layers and sedimentary rock strata, were formed rapidly during a single global flood event just a few thousand years ago. Young Earth creationism, which underpins the curriculum, maintains that the planet is no older than 10,000 years, and that natural history can be fully explained through divine intervention.

The divergence between these views is more than a matter of interpretation—it reflects fundamentally different epistemologies. Plate tectonics is grounded in empirical research, the scientific method, and peer review. It invites scrutiny, thrives on testable hypotheses, and evolves in response to new evidence. In contrast, Liberty’s model begins with a predetermined conclusion: the Bible is historically and scientifically accurate in every detail. Evidence is selectively interpreted to fit this framework, and contradictory data—no matter how extensive—is either reinterpreted or dismissed. This approach aligns more closely with apologetics than with science.

While Liberty University positions its creationist program as a means to equip students to "contend for their faith," critics argue that it misrepresents scientific knowledge and undermines science education. By framing the Great Deluge as a viable scientific alternative to plate tectonics, the institution promotes a parallel academic universe in which faith-based doctrines masquerade as empirical conclusions. The implications go beyond the classroom. As Liberty-trained educators and policymakers enter the workforce, the divide between evidence-based science and theological worldviews has the potential to further erode public understanding of geology, biology, and climate science.

The tension between these two narratives—one driven by data and theory, the other by scripture and conviction—mirrors broader cultural and political divides in the United States. In this climate, Liberty University’s Great Deluge Theory stands not merely as a fringe belief but as part of an organized ideological project. It seeks to challenge the authority of secular science and replace it with a creationist worldview, reinforced by institutional power, strategic philanthropy, and media amplification through outlets like Fox News and Turning Point USA.

Pangaea remains a foundational concept in understanding Earth's deep past—a testament to scientific inquiry and intellectual perseverance. The Great Deluge Theory, by contrast, functions more as a religious counter-narrative, one that reveals the growing influence of Christian nationalism within certain sectors of U.S. higher education. At Liberty University, students are taught not only to question modern geology but to replace it with a model of the Earth shaped by divine catastrophe. In doing so, the institution asserts a theological vision of reality that stands in direct opposition to the scientific consensus.

This conflict raises urgent questions about the role of ideology in higher education and the future of scientific literacy in a society increasingly divided along epistemological lines.

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Sources:

National Center for Science Education. “The Creationist Assault on Geology.” NCSE Reports.
https://ncse.ngo/creationist-assault-geology

U.S. Geological Survey (USGS). “Geologic Time.”
https://www.usgs.gov/programs/earthquake-hazards/geologic-time

Wegener, Alfred. The Origin of Continents and Oceans. Translated edition, Dover Publications, 1966.

Liberty University. “Center for Creation Studies.”
https://www.liberty.edu/academics/creationstudies/

Liberty University Rawlings School of Divinity. “Freedom Tower Overview.”
https://www.liberty.edu/divinity/freedom-tower/

Numbers, Ronald L. The Creationists: From Scientific Creationism to Intelligent Design. Harvard University Press, 2006.

Scott, Eugenie C. Evolution vs. Creationism: An Introduction. University of California Press, 2009.

Radiometric Dating and the Age of the Earth. TalkOrigins Archive.
http://www.talkorigins.org/faqs/dating.html

Lisle, Jason. The Ultimate Proof of Creation. Master Books, 2009. (Representative of Liberty-style apologetics)

The Functional Poverty of US Higher Education

In 1971, sociologist Herbert J. Gans published The Positive Functions of Poverty, a provocative essay that argued poverty persists not due to a lack of solutions, but because it benefits powerful institutions. Over fifty years later, his thesis haunts U.S. higher education, which does not merely reflect inequality but actively relies on it. The system functions less as an engine of mobility and more as a mechanism for managing and monetizing the poor.

Today, poverty is not an accident of the US higher education system—it is a prerequisite for its operation.

Poverty as Institutional Legitimacy

Colleges and universities frequently promote themselves as pathways out of poverty, showcasing stories of Pell Grant recipients and first-generation students to validate their missions. These narratives help secure federal funding, private donations, and political goodwill. Yet the vast majority of poor students never cross the commencement stage. Instead, their presence serves to bolster institutional credibility while masking the reality of systemic failure.

Programs like TRIO, GEAR UP, and Promise scholarships function not to eliminate poverty, but to manage it. They offer modest hope while ensuring the system continues undisturbed.

Poor Students as a Revenue Stream

The financial foundation of higher education rests heavily on low-income students. For-profit colleges, many of them reincarnated under new branding or partnerships, depend almost entirely on federal aid and student loans tied to impoverished enrollees. These institutions aggressively recruit students with big promises and deliver little in return. Graduation rates remain dismal, while student debt mounts.

Private student lenders have filled the remaining gaps left by federal aid caps and rising tuition. Fintech platforms like SoFi, College Ave, and Earnest offer loans with complex terms and minimal consumer protections, particularly to vulnerable students desperate for access. For many borrowers, this creates a lifetime of indebtedness for a credential that may never yield a return.

The Administrative Industry of Poverty

A burgeoning sector of higher education administration is devoted to managing the symptoms of poverty. Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) offices—now under political assault—often oversee food banks, mental health outreach, and “resilience” programming for first-gen students. Meanwhile, a growing HR specialty has emerged to “track and support” the poor.

These staffers may act with sincere intention, but their existence also reveals the transactional nature of institutional concern. Without poor students to manage, their roles—and the bureaucracies behind them—would shrink. Food insecurity and academic struggle have become normalized to the point that colleges maintain food pantries as a permanent feature of campus life.

Exploiting the Educated Underclass

As sociologist Gary Roth has observed, higher education produces a surplus of credentialed workers with no corresponding demand. These graduates, often from poor backgrounds, return to campus as adjunct faculty, graduate assistants, or gig workers—essential but expendable.

Their labor sustains the system at low cost. They teach core courses, staff libraries, and support faculty research while earning poverty wages themselves. The promise of education becomes a loop of unfulfilled mobility.

Poor Students as Research Subjects

Low-income students are not only sources of revenue and labor—they are also the subjects of academic research. Entire disciplines, from sociology to education and public health, have been built upon the study of poverty. Yet few researchers challenge the institutional structures that perpetuate the very inequalities they document.

Faculty careers flourish. Tenure is won. Grants are secured. The students themselves often see no tangible benefit from this knowledge production.

Reinforcing the Myth of Meritocracy

Elite universities use a handful of poor students to validate the myth of meritocracy. These “success stories” are amplified through PR campaigns, donor appeals, and glossy admissions brochures. They function as symbolic proof that the system works—even as the vast majority of poor students are shunted into lower-tier institutions with fewer resources and worse outcomes.

The truth is clear: wealth remains the strongest predictor of educational success in the United States.

Stratification by Design

The U.S. higher education system is structured to reproduce class hierarchy. Community colleges and regional public universities disproportionately enroll poor and working-class students. Flagship publics and elite privates cater to the children of the professional and ruling classes.

This credentialing hierarchy maintains social order while offering just enough upward mobility to justify its existence.

Political Utility: Blame the Poor

When institutions face financial shortfalls or declining enrollment, they often scapegoat the poor. Students are labeled unprepared, unmotivated, or emotionally fragile. Rarely are structural causes—such as rising tuition, defunded public services, or predatory loan systems—acknowledged.

Neoliberal reforms and conservative attacks on “woke” education continue to target vulnerable populations, obscuring the institutional failures that drive inequity.

Private Equity and the Monetization of Student Housing

One of the latest frontiers in the commodification of poverty within higher education is campus-adjacent real estate. Private equity (PE) firms are aggressively acquiring student housing near flagship state universities, turning basic shelter into another site of financial extraction.

Evidence of PE Expansion:
Private equity firms such as Investcorp, Rockpoint, and KKR have amassed significant portfolios of student housing near schools like the University of Florida, University of Texas at Austin, and College of Charleston. These acquisitions are not random—they target institutions with large, stable enrollment and limited new housing supply.

Rents on the Rise:
In cities like Tampa, rents increased by 49% from 2019 to 2023—a jump partly attributed to institutional investors, although the exact role of PE firms in driving this increase is contested. Still, anecdotal reports and advocacy groups point to rising rents, increased fees, and aggressive management practices following PE takeovers.

Housing Scarcity as Leverage:
While it's difficult to isolate private equity's influence from broader housing shortages and enrollment growth, it's clear that PE is exploiting structural constraints—just as for-profit colleges exploit financial aid loopholes. Where public universities fail to build sufficient housing, private investors step in, profiting from desperation.

A System That Needs Poverty

Herbert Gans argued that poverty survives because it serves essential functions for society’s powerful institutions. In American higher education, this dynamic is not theoretical—it is lived reality. Colleges and universities don’t just educate the poor; they extract value from them at every level.

From student loans and real estate speculation to adjunct labor and administrative bloat, the system is built around managing—not eradicating—poverty.

Until higher education confronts its own complicity in perpetuating structural inequality, it will remain what it is today: an industry that feeds on hope, and thrives on hardship.

Sources
Gans, Herbert J. “The Positive Functions of Poverty.” American Journal of Sociology, 1971.
Roth, Gary. The Educated Underclass: Students and the Promise of Social Mobility. Pluto Press, 2019.
National Center for Education Statistics (NCES)
U.S. Department of Education, College Scorecard
Private Equity Stakeholder Project
RealPage Analytics
Advocacy reports on student housing and rent inflation
Higher Education Inquirer FOIA research files

Choosing the Trades: Why Plumbing, HVAC, and Construction Education Can Be a Smart Start—If You Pick the Right Program

As more Americans question the cost and value of traditional college degrees, skilled trades like plumbing, HVAC (heating, ventilation, and air conditioning), and construction are gaining renewed respect. These jobs are essential, often well-paid, and generally shielded from outsourcing and automation. For students, recent graduates, and workers looking to pivot, trade education can be a practical path toward financial stability—but only if you choose your training program carefully.

Not all trade schools and programs are created equal. Some offer affordable, hands-on learning and clear pathways to employment. Others—especially some for-profit institutions—prey on students with inflated job placement claims, high tuition, and subpar instruction. The difference between a legitimate program and a predatory one can shape your entire career.

Strong Demand, Solid Wages

According to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS), employment for HVAC technicians is projected to grow by 6% between 2022 and 2032. Demand for plumbers and construction laborers remains steady as well. These jobs are not only necessary—they pay fairly well:

• Plumbers earned a median wage of $60,090 in 2023.

• HVAC techs made $51,390.

• Construction laborers earned $45,990, with more for those with specialized skills or union backing.

Some skilled tradespeople eventually launch their own businesses, expanding their income potential. Others join unions, where they may receive higher wages, better job protections, and retirement benefits.

Education Without Massive Debt

One of the biggest advantages of trade education is affordability. Community colleges, union apprenticeships, and some public vocational schools offer programs that cost a fraction of a four-year degree. Many apprenticeships even pay participants as they learn, allowing students to earn a living while gaining skills.

Compare this to the average college graduate, who now leaves school with more than $30,000 in student loan debt, often without a clear path to employment.

But low cost doesn’t always mean good value. Some private trade schools, especially those operating for-profit, charge high tuition for short programs with low completion rates and weak job placement. That’s why prospective students must do their homework.

How to Choose a Quality Program

Before enrolling in a trade school or certification program, consider the following steps:

1. Check Accreditation and Licensing: Make sure the program is recognized by state or regional accreditors and meets licensure requirements for your trade.

2. Look at Completion and Placement Rates: Reputable programs will publish data on how many students finish and get jobs. Be skeptical of vague or overly optimistic claims.

3. Talk to Former Students: Ask graduates about their experiences and whether the training helped them find steady work.

4. Compare Costs: Public programs and union apprenticeships tend to be more affordable than private, for-profit schools. Don’t take out large loans without understanding your likely return on investment.

5. Beware of Pressure Sales Tactics: Legitimate schools won’t rush you into enrolling or make grand promises of guaranteed jobs.

The Risks of Predatory Schools

A 2022 report by the U.S. Government Accountability Office (GAO) found that some for-profit trade schools mislead students about costs and outcomes, while overcharging for low-quality instruction. These institutions often target veterans, immigrants, and low-income students with aggressive marketing.

Under the Biden administration, new Gainful Employment rules and Borrower Defense provisions aim to hold these schools accountable, but oversight can be slow and uneven. Once enrolled and in debt, students have few options for recourse if the program fails them.

A Real Alternative

For those who take the time to research and choose wisely, a trade education can offer something increasingly rare in today’s economy: a stable job, low or no debt, and the chance to build something real—both literally and financially.

Plumbing, HVAC, and construction are not fallback careers. They are vital professions with opportunities for growth, dignity, and independence. As society faces aging infrastructure, rising housing demand, and climate challenges, skilled tradespeople will only become more essential.

For students and jobseekers, the message is clear: You don’t have to go to a four-year college to build a solid future. But you do have to be smart about where and how you get your training.

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Sources:

• U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, Occupational Outlook Handbook (2024)

• National Center for Education Statistics, “Student Loan Debt and Completion Rates” (2023)

• U.S. Government Accountability Office, “Oversight of For-Profit Colleges” (2022)

• National Skills Coalition, “Middle-Skills Jobs and the Labor Market” (2023)

Florida Education Association (FEA) and the United Faculty of Florida (UFF), Oppose Politically Driven State Accreditor in Florida

The Florida Education Association (FEA) and the United Faculty of Florida (UFF), representing educators, faculty, and graduate assistants statewide, strongly oppose the state’s creation of a politically driven accreditor for public colleges and universities. 

This move directly threatens the independence, integrity, and academic credibility of the state’s higher education system. By allowing political interference into the accreditation process, the state will continue to erode faculty voice, chill academic freedom, and further politicize hiring, curriculum, and tenure decisions. It sets a dangerous precedent that could fragment national accreditation standards, damage Florida’s academic reputation, and jeopardize our students’ futures, including their federal aid eligibility and degree recognition. 

“Accreditation matters because it’s the backbone of academic freedom, shared governance, and public trust in the quality of our institutions,” said Teresa M. Hodge, President of the United Faculty of Florida. “This proposed state accreditor appears designed to align more with political priorities rather than academic independence. It seems to be the state’s latest attempt to exert top-down control over what faculty can teach and what students are allowed to learn. Our communities don’t need more politics in our education systems—we need systems that are focused on the growth of our students and not on the political whims of whoever is in charge. It is critical that accreditation remain independent of political interference, grounded in academic standards and peer review, as well as transparent and inclusive of shared governance “principles.” 

The implications don’t end at higher education. A shift in accreditation standards will also impact Florida’s Pre-K-12 system in the form of teacher preparation programs at public colleges and universities, certification requirements, and even access to the profession.  

“Time and time again, we’ve seen political agendas take priority over sound education policy,” said Andrew Spar, President of the Florida Education Association. “The creation of this state accreditor could derail the very programs we rely on to train and prepare educators at a time when Florida faces a critical teacher and staff shortage. Even dual enrollment offerings for students could be disrupted. Students learn best when they’re free to learn and educators are free to teach—not when curriculum decisions are dictated by politics.” 

FEA and UFF call for accreditation processes that remain true to their purpose: Independent of political interference, grounded in academic standards and peer review, and inclusive of shared governance. Florida’s students, educators, and communities deserve nothing less. 

###

CONTACT: FEA Press, feapress@floridaea.org, (850) 201-3223

The Florida Education Association is the state’s largest association of professional employees, with more than 120,000 members. FEA represents PreK-12 teachers, higher education faculty, educational staff professionals, students at our colleges and universities preparing to become teachers and retired education employees.

Corinthian Colleges: A For-Profit Empire, Lifelong Debt, and No Justice for the Victims

In the pantheon of higher education scandals, few match the scale and damage caused by Corinthian Colleges Inc. (CCI). Once hailed by Wall Street as a model for the future of "career education," Corinthian collapsed in 2015 amid federal investigations, lawsuits, and public outrage. The company left behind a trail of financial ruin: more than half a million former students burdened with life-altering debt and degrees of little or no value.

And yet—no one went to jail.

 
A Machine Built on Deception

Founded in 1995, Corinthian Colleges grew rapidly by acquiring small vocational schools and rebranding them under the names Everest, Heald, and WyoTech. Backed by investors and pumped with federal financial aid dollars, the company aggressively marketed to low-income individuals, single mothers, veterans, and people of color—those often excluded from traditional higher education.

Its business model depended not on education outcomes, but on enrollment numbers and federal subsidies. Behind its TV commercials and high-pressure call centers, Corinthian was fabricating job placement rates, enrolling unqualified students, and saddling them with tens of thousands in debt for programs that were often substandard or unaccredited.

At its peak, Corinthian enrolled more than 100,000 students and took in over $1.4 billion annually in federal aid.

 
The Collapse and the Fallout

In 2014, under pressure from federal and state regulators—particularly California Attorney General Kamala Harris—the U.S. Department of Education began tightening scrutiny. When CCI failed to provide accurate job placement data, the government cut off access to Title IV funds. Corinthian tried to sell off its campuses piecemeal before declaring bankruptcy in 2015.

The closure stranded tens of thousands of students mid-degree and left hundreds of thousands with massive debt for worthless credentials.
Lifelong Damage

Many Corinthian students never recovered. Some lost years of work and study. Many saw their credit scores destroyed. Others defaulted and faced wage garnishment, loss of tax refunds, and psychological trauma.

Although the Biden administration in 2022 announced $5.8 billion in loan cancellation for more than 560,000 former Corinthian students—the largest discharge of federal student loans in U.S. history—many students were excluded. Others had taken out private loans or never received proper notification. Some died before receiving relief. Others continue to pay interest on fraudulent debts.

 
The Executives Who Walked Away

While students and their families were left in financial ruin, Corinthian’s executives escaped virtually untouched.

Jack D. Massimino, Corinthian’s longtime CEO and chairman, collected millions in compensation over the years—reportedly more than $3 million in a single year (2010). Despite leading the company through its most fraudulent period, Massimino was never criminally charged. He quietly disappeared from public view after the company’s collapse.

Patrick J. Carey, former Chief Operating Officer and later CEO after Massimino stepped down, also avoided prosecution. Carey was involved in the company’s operations during the period when job placement numbers were allegedly falsified.

William D. White, former Chief Financial Officer, signed off on SEC filings during years of misleading statements to investors and regulators, yet he too faced no criminal charges.

A handful of lawsuits and civil enforcement actions targeted the company, but not its top brass. The Obama-era Department of Education fined Corinthian $30 million for misrepresentations at its Heald campuses in California—but again, no individuals were held accountable.

The Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) filed a civil suit in 2016 against Massimino and two other executives—Robert Owen (former CEO of Everest) and David Moore (former Vice President of Career Services)—but the penalties were civil, not criminal. The matter was quietly resolved years later, with no admission of guilt and limited financial penalties.

 
A Legal and Regulatory Failure

The failure to prosecute Corinthian’s leadership reveals the broader dysfunction of federal oversight. The Department of Education continued to funnel billions to Corinthian even after whistleblowers and state attorneys general raised serious concerns. Accreditors rubber-stamped programs with low graduation and job placement rates. Congress held hearings but passed little reform.

And when the reckoning came, it was the students—not the executives or shareholders—who paid the price.

 
A Cautionary Tale Still Unfolding

The Corinthian Colleges scandal is not simply a story of corporate greed. It is a story of systemic complicity—of a regulatory system that rewards enrollment over outcomes, that protects corporate actors while ignoring the human cost.

Today, many former Corinthian students remain in financial limbo, excluded from relief due to paperwork errors, technicalities, or bureaucratic delays. Some have moved on, but with scars—financial, emotional, and psychological—that may never fully heal.

Meanwhile, the men who engineered this billion-dollar fraud have retired or moved on to new ventures. Their profits are intact. Their reputations barely scratched.

Borrower Defense to Repayment: A Broken Lifeline

In theory, Borrower Defense to Repayment (BDR) was supposed to be the lifeline for students defrauded by predatory institutions like Corinthian Colleges. Enshrined in federal law since the 1990s and expanded during the Obama administration, BDR allows borrowers to seek federal student loan cancellation if their school misled them or violated certain state laws. In practice, however, this “safety net” has been riddled with delay, denial, and political sabotage.

During the Trump administration, then-Education Secretary Betsy DeVos all but dismantled BDR, slow-walking or denying tens of thousands of claims and rewriting the rules to make relief nearly impossible to obtain. Her Department of Education sat on a mountain of applications, many of them from Corinthian students, and forced some defrauded borrowers to repay loans they never should have owed.

Legal battles ensued. A class action suit brought by student borrowers (Sweet v. Cardona) eventually compelled the Department of Education to process tens of thousands of long-delayed claims. But the damage from years of neglect and politicization left lasting scars.

The Biden administration, to its credit, sought to restore the original intent of Borrower Defense. In 2022, it wiped out $5.8 billion in federal loans for former Corinthian students—an unprecedented act of relief. And yet, it was not complete justice.

Thousands of borrowers still have pending BDR applications. Some were denied under DeVos-era policies and must reapply. Others have struggled to access relief due to confusing eligibility requirements or missing documentation. And those with private loans—outside the reach of BDR entirely—remain stuck with illegitimate debt and few legal options.

More troubling, the system remains vulnerable to future political manipulation. Without statutory protections, BDR can be gutted again by a future administration, leaving borrowers once more at the mercy of ideology and inertia.

Corinthian’s legacy, then, lives on—not just in the ruined finances of its former students but in the unsteady scaffolding of a student loan forgiveness system still prone to failure. If Borrower Defense to Repayment is to mean anything, it must become more than a postscript to scandals like Corinthian. It must become a durable right—shielded from politics, enforced with urgency, and backed by a real commitment to justice.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to investigate how many were excluded, why relief was delayed, and what deeper reforms are needed—not just to help the Corinthian generation, but to prevent the next generation from falling into the same trap.

Sources:

U.S. Department of Education press releases (2015–2024)
SEC v. Massimino, Owen, Moore (2016)
California v. Corinthian Colleges, Inc. (AG Kamala Harris)
The Atlantic, “The Lie That Got Half a Million People Into Debt”
The Chronicle of Higher Education archives
Debt Collective reports and legal filings
U.S. Senate HELP Committee (Harkin Report, 2012)
Inside Higher Ed, “Corinthian Execs Walk Away”
Sweet v. Cardona case documents and related rulings
Borrower Defense regulations: 34 CFR § 685.206 and subsequent amendments

Let us know if you have a Corinthian story to share. Justice demands it be told.

Lauren Greenfield's “Social Studies” & Coming of Age in a Social Media World (Daily Show)

Trump Versus Academia Update (Bryan Alexander)

From Public Good to Target of Sabotage: The Long Decline of the U.S. Postal Service

The United States Postal Service (USPS), long a pillar of American public life and a gateway to middle-class stability, is under siege. While Donald Trump’s administration played a pivotal role in accelerating its recent dysfunction, the erosion of the USPS began decades earlier—through bipartisan policy decisions, creeping privatization, technological change, and ideological hostility toward public institutions. The destruction of the USPS is not a moment, but a process. And its consequences are being felt by workers, communities, and the democratic fabric of the country.

A People’s Institution

The USPS has deep roots in American democracy and labor history. Established in 1775 with Benjamin Franklin as its first postmaster general, the service has operated under a mandate of universal delivery, regardless of geography or profitability. It became a vehicle for social and economic mobility—especially for Black Americans, veterans, immigrants, and rural citizens.

For much of the 20th century, the Postal Service was a stable, unionized employer offering family-sustaining wages. Even as industrial jobs declined, USPS employment remained a critical bridge into the middle class, particularly for African Americans. By the early 1980s, the USPS employed nearly 800,000 people—offering pensions, job security, and federal health benefits.

The Turn Toward Privatization and Market Competition

The seeds of decline were planted in the late 20th century with the rise of neoliberal economics and a bipartisan push for government efficiency, austerity, and deregulation.

In 1970, the old Post Office Department was restructured into a semi-independent entity— the U.S. Postal Service—after a massive wildcat postal strike. While the Postal Reorganization Act modernized the institution, it also removed many public-service obligations from congressional oversight, laying the groundwork for future financial manipulation.

Beginning in the 1980s and accelerating in the 1990s, the growth of private carriers like FedEx and UPS—both supported by favorable legislation and lobbying power—ate into USPS’s most profitable markets: overnight and package delivery. Rather than being forced to compete on a level playing field, USPS was legally barred from underpricing private competitors or expanding into new revenue-generating areas like banking or logistics.

Then came the internet. Email, online bill pay, and digital communications began replacing First-Class mail, which historically covered much of the USPS's operating costs. USPS mail volume peaked in 2006 at 213 billion pieces and has declined nearly 40 percent since. In 2024, total mail volume stood at just over 127 billion pieces.

The 2006 PAEA: A Manufactured Crisis

Perhaps the most destructive blow came in 2006 with the Postal Accountability and Enhancement Act (PAEA), passed by a bipartisan Congress and signed by President George W. Bush. The law required USPS to pre-fund 75 years’ worth of retiree health benefits within a 10-year window—a $5.5 billion annual burden not imposed on any other federal agency or private company.

This manufactured debt crisis gave political cover to critics who claimed the Postal Service was financially unsustainable. It also starved the institution of capital needed for modernization, infrastructure, and workforce development. For over a decade, this artificial shortfall served as justification for hiring freezes, facility closures, and service cuts.

Enter Trump: Sabotage with a Smile

By the time Donald Trump took office in 2017, USPS had already been weakened. But Trump weaponized its vulnerabilities for political gain. In 2020, amid a global pandemic and a presidential election that relied heavily on mail-in voting, Trump launched a public attack on the USPS, falsely claiming mail-in ballots were a source of massive voter fraud.

He appointed Louis DeJoy—a logistics executive and Republican megadonor—as Postmaster General. DeJoy’s appointment was rubber-stamped by a Trump-controlled USPS Board of Governors. Under DeJoy, the USPS eliminated overtime, removed sorting machines, slashed delivery routes, and cut post office hours. Predictably, mail delivery slowed, especially in swing states and communities dependent on timely postal service.

The slowdowns weren’t just political—they were material. Seniors reported late medications. Veterans didn’t receive their VA checks. Ballots were delayed. And postal workers were pushed to the brink. In Detroit and Philadelphia, on-time First-Class mail delivery dropped to below 65 percent in the summer of 2020.

Workforce Impact and Labor Erosion

The USPS has lost tens of thousands of jobs since DeJoy’s tenure began. Over 30,000 positions were eliminated between 2021 and 2024. In early 2025, the agency announced plans to cut 10,000 more jobs, many through early retirement. For a workforce that had already endured years of hiring freezes, consolidation, and low morale, these were devastating blows.

Postal unions, including the American Postal Workers Union (APWU) and the National Association of Letter Carriers (NALC), have denounced the cuts as part of a long-term strategy to hollow out the institution and pave the way for privatization.

Service Cuts and a Two-Tier America

As the USPS has weakened, its ability to provide universal service has eroded. In urban centers, lines at post offices have grown longer. In rural America, post offices have been closed or had their hours slashed. Mail delivery has become slower, less reliable, and less equitable. For millions of Americans, especially those in marginalized communities, the erosion of USPS services represents a withdrawal of the federal government from public life.

At the same time, private carriers have expanded their market share—but only where profits justify service. This has created a two-tier system: fast, expensive delivery for the wealthy and corporations; slow, underfunded service for the rest.

The Broader War on Public Infrastructure

What has happened to the U.S. Postal Service is not an isolated story. It is part of a broader neoliberal assault on public institutions and the working class. From public education to public housing, from transit systems to social security offices, the U.S. has seen a systematic hollowing out of civic infrastructure under the banner of "efficiency" and "market competition."

Trump’s actions—both deliberate and reckless—pushed the Postal Service further down a path of institutional decay. But the responsibility lies with decades of policymakers who devalued public service, dismantled regulatory protections, and enabled privatization without accountability.

A Line in the Sand

The USPS remains one of the few institutions that touches nearly every American. It has survived war, depression, technological revolution, and political sabotage. But its future is not guaranteed.

Saving the Postal Service will require not just reversing Trump-era policies, but confronting decades of bipartisan neglect. It will mean repealing harmful laws like the PAEA, investing in modernization, expanding services (like postal banking), and defending postal jobs and unions.

In a time of deep inequality and civic fragmentation, preserving the USPS is about more than mail. It’s about restoring the public good—and remembering that some things should not be for sale.

Sources:

• U.S. Postal Service 2024 Annual Report to Congress

• Bureau of Labor Statistics, Occupational Employment and Wage Statistics

• Congressional Research Service: The Postal Accountability and Enhancement Act

• The Guardian: “USPS mail slowdowns raise fears of election interference”

• AP News: “Trump says he may take control of USPS”

• Business Insider: “Privatization of USPS could harm rural areas”

• Teen Vogue: “The U.S. Postal Service and the Working Class”

• American Postal Workers Union (apwu.org)