Medugrift and the price makers in higher education

In the United States, the cost of higher education is not a natural phenomenon. It is deliberately constructed by a network of institutional actors who function as price makers: university presidents, chief financial officers, boards of trustees, governors, and state legislators. They determine what students pay, how institutions are structured, and whose interests higher education ultimately serves. Their decisions shape tuition, labor conditions, program priorities, and the balance between education and the expanding world of medugrift—the hybrid system where medicine, education, debt, and corporate extraction intersect.

For decades, the American public has been told that tuition rises because education is inherently expensive. But as Richard Wolff argues in his critiques of the “War on the Working Class,” the economic decisions shaping tuition, labor costs, athletics, administrative growth, and capital projects reflect class priorities. The price makers choose which costs are fundamental and which are negotiable. They choose what gets built, who gets hired, and how much debt institutions take on. They choose who pays.

University presidents now act more like corporate executives than academic leaders. They negotiate seven-figure salaries, travel globally for fundraising, and preside over campuses where luxury construction often outruns academic needs. They approve budgets that elevate branding and athletics while pressuring academic departments to justify their existence through profit metrics. Tuition increases rarely slow presidential compensation; instead, they are framed as regrettable necessities dictated by “the market” or “competitive realities.”

CFOs enforce a financial logic that prioritizes credit ratings, cash reserves, and debt-financed expansion. They present budgets as neutral, but each line reflects a hierarchy of value. Instruction is cast as a cost center. Staff health care, faculty benefits, and student services become “inefficiencies.” Meanwhile, massive expenditures on consultants, real estate, information systems, and administration are justified as essential to “modernization.” The result is predictable: the people who teach and learn bear the burden while those who administer expand.

Trustees represent another layer of price making. Often drawn from banking, private equity, real estate, biotech, and corporate medicine, trustees bring a worldview shaped by capital accumulation rather than public service. They authorize tuition hikes, approve investment strategies, and greenlight partnerships that blend public education with private profit. Many trustees sit simultaneously on hospital boards or medical investment firms, allowing medugrift to flourish in the shadows of institutional legitimacy. Their decisions shape which programs expand, which shrink, and which students are offered genuine opportunity.

State governors and legislators are external architects of scarcity. Since the 1980s, state governments have systematically defunded public higher education while channeling resources to mass incarceration, gambling revenue schemes, corporate tax breaks, and subsidies to companies like Amazon. These choices undermine the ability of public institutions to remain affordable and force them to operate increasingly like private universities. The shift from public funding to tuition revenue is not inevitable; it is a political strategy. HBCUs and tribal colleges have lived with this manufactured scarcity for generations. Their chronic underfunding—documented in numerous state audits and federal investigations—illustrates what happens when government treats education for marginalized communities as optional.

The emergence of medugrift reveals a deeper structural problem. At the intersection of higher education and corporate medicine sits an engine of extraction. University medical systems leverage public funding, student tuition, and philanthropic contributions to build financial empires that often serve administrators first and communities last. Medical schools charge extreme tuition while placing students into debt-heavy paths. University hospitals consolidate regional health systems, increasing costs while reducing access. Research produced through public dollars is routinely captured by private pharmaceutical or biotech companies. Meanwhile, residents and faculty in these health systems often endure poor working conditions and stagnant pay. Medugrift conceals itself behind the prestige of medicine, but its logic mirrors that of predatory education: privatize gains, socialize losses, and extract from those with the least bargaining power.

Who determines the costs to students? The answer lies in the aggregated decisions of these actors. When a university raises tuition to protect its bond rating, that is a decision. When trustees invest in athletics while cutting humanities programs, that is a decision. When governors choose prisons over scholarships, that is a decision. When state legislatures allow gambling revenue to substitute for stable taxation, that is a decision. Each choice shifts the financial burden downward while consolidating power upward.

This is not simply mismanagement; it is a class project. The people who determine prices do not feel them. Students, families, adjunct instructors, and underfunded communities do. For working-class students, particularly those from historically excluded backgrounds, the price makers have built a system defined by debt, precarity, and limited mobility.

Nothing about this system is inevitable. There was a time when public universities were affordable, when trustees included community members and labor leaders, when presidents were educators, and when medical centers served the public rather than corporate conglomerates. If the price makers can build this system, a more democratic and humane system can be built to replace it.

The question for the coming decade is not whether higher education is too expensive. The public has already reached its verdict. The question is whether students, workers, and communities will continue to let the price makers—and the medugrift machinery attached to them—define who gets educated, who gets indebted, and who gets left behind.

Sources
Richard D. Wolff, Understanding Socialism; Capitalism Hits the Fan
Elisabeth Rosenthal, An American Sickness
Harriet A. Washington, Medical Apartheid
Rebecca Skloot, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks
Alondra Nelson, Body and Soul
State Higher Education Finance (SHEF) Reports
U.S. Department of Education, Office for Civil Rights, HBCU Funding Analyses

The Hidden Costs of ROTC — and the Military Path: Why Prospective Enlistees and Supporters Should Think Twice

[Editor's note: This article was written before West Virginia National Guard troops were shot upon in the occupied District of Columbia. That horrific event makes our point even more salient. No matter how desperate someone may be, we implore folks to think twice before signing anything related to military service under the Trump Administration.] 

For many young Americans, the Reserve Officers’ Training Corps (ROTC) or other military‑linked opportunities can look like a ticket to education, steady income, and a chance to “see the world.” But the allure of scholarships, structure, and economic opportunity often hides a deeper reality — one that includes moral danger, personal risk, and long-term uncertainty.

Recent events underscore this. On November 24, 2025, the United States Department of Defense (DoD) announced it was opening a formal investigation into Mark Kelly — retired Navy captain, former astronaut, and current U.S. Senator — after he appeared in a video alongside other lawmakers urging U.S. troops to disobey “illegal orders.” The DoD’s justification: as a retired officer, Kelly remains subject to the Uniform Code of Military Justice (UCMJ), and the department said his statements may have “interfered with the loyalty, morale, or good order and discipline of the armed forces.”

This episode is striking not only because of Kelly’s prominence, but because it shows how even after leaving active service, a veteran’s speech and actions can be subject to military law — a stark reminder that joining the military (or training through ROTC) can carry obligations and consequences long after “service” ends.

Moral, Legal & Personal Risks Behind the Promise

When you consider military service — through ROTC or otherwise — it’s important to weigh the full scope of what you may be signing up for:

Potential involvement in illegal or immoral wars: ROTC graduates may eventually be deployed in foreign conflicts — possibly ones controversial or condemned internationally (for example, interventions in places like Venezuela). Participation in such wars raises real moral questions about complicity in human rights abuses, “regime-change,” or other interventions that may lack democratic or legal legitimacy.

Domestic deployment and policing: Military obligations are increasingly stretching beyond foreign wars. Service members — even reservists — can be called in to deal with domestic “disputes,” civil unrest, or internal security operations. This raises ethical concerns about policing one’s own communities, and potential coercion or suppression of civil and political rights.

Long-term oversight and limited freedom: The investigation of Senator Kelly shows that veterans and officers remain under DoD jurisdiction even after service ends. That oversight can restrict free speech, dissent, or political engagement. Those seeking to escape economic hardship or limited opportunities may overlook how binding and enduring those obligations can be — even decades later.

Psychological and bodily danger: Military service often involves exposure to combat, trauma, physical injury — not to mention risks such as sexual assault, racism, sexism, and institutional abuse. Mental health consequences like PTSD are common, and the support systems for dealing with them are widely criticized as inadequate.

Institutional racism, sexism, and inequality: The military is an institution with historic and ongoing patterns of discrimination — which can exacerbate systemic injustices rather than alleviate them. For individuals coming from marginalized communities, the promise of “a way out” can come with new forms of structural violence, exploitation, or marginalization.

Career precarity and institutional control: Even after completing education or training, the reality of “limited choices” looms large. Military obligations — contractual, legal, social — can bind individuals long-term, affecting not just their mobility but their agency, conscience, and ability to critique the system.

Why Economic Incentives Often Mask the Real Costs

For many, the draw of ROTC is economic: scholarships, stable income, a way out of challenging socioeconomic circumstances, or a ticket out of a hometown with limited opportunity. These incentives are real. But as the recent case with Mark Kelly makes clear, the costs — legal, moral, social — can be far greater and more enduring than advertised. What looks like an escape route can become a lifetime of obligations, constraints, and potential complicity in questionable policies.

A Call for Caution, Conscience, and Awareness

Prospective enlistees deserve full transparency. The decision to join ROTC or the military should not be sold merely as an educational contract or a job opportunity — it is an entrance into a deeply entrenched institution, one with power, obligations, and potential for harm. The new controversy around Mark Kelly ought to serve as a wake-up call: if even a decorated former officer and sitting U.S. senator can be threatened decades after service, young people should consider carefully what they may be signing up for.

If you — or someone you care about — is thinking of joining, ask: What kind of wars might I be asked to fight? What does “service” really cost — and who pays?

Sources:

Higher Education Inquirer. Trump Sends West Virginia National Guard to D.C. Without Consulting Mayor Bowser." August 16, 2025. Higher Education Inquirer : Trump Sends West Virginia National Guard to D.C. Without Consulting Mayor Bowser

AP News. “Pentagon says it's investigating Sen. Mark Kelly over video urging troops to defy 'illegal orders'.” November 24, 2025. https://apnews.com/article/4882f76b05dcdfa3060c284c2c84dd12

The Guardian. “Mark Kelly: call for troops to disobey illegal orders is 'non-controversial'.” November 25, 2025. https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2025/nov/25/mark-kelly-troops-disobey-illegal-orders-comments

Reuters. “Pentagon threatens to prosecute Senator Mark Kelly by recalling him to Navy service.” November 24, 2025. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/pentagon-threatens-prosecute-senator-mark-kelly-by-recalling-him-navy-service-2025-11-24/

RAND Corporation. “Mental Health and Military Service.” 2022.

Amnesty International. Human Rights Violations in Venezuela. 2023.

U.S. Department of Defense. Reports on Sexual Assault in the Military. 2024.

Washington, H. Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Human Experimentation in the United States.

Rosenthal, E. An American Sickness.

The Secret and Tragic World of Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is a man whose name carries the weight of one of America’s most storied political dynasties. Environmentalist, activist, author, and political figure, he has long cultivated a public image of intelligence, idealism, and reform-minded zeal. Yet behind this public persona lies a deeply troubled personal history marked by tragedy, accusations of sexual misconduct, and disturbing claims of animal cruelty. With his rise to the position of Secretary of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) in 2025, the stakes of this hidden history have grown far beyond family drama—they now intersect with public health, national science policy, and the higher education ecosystem.

Personal Tragedy and Allegations

Mary Richardson Kennedy, RFK Jr.’s second wife, died by suicide in May 2012. She was found with antidepressants in her system but no alcohol. At the time, the couple was separated, embroiled in a bitter divorce. Later-revealed documents suggest that Mary Richardson described her husband as a “sexual deviant,” alleging prescription-drug abuse and psychological manipulation, including gaslighting. She claimed he secretly recorded more than 60 phone conversations and maintained diaries documenting extramarital relationships. What may have seemed private marital discord became serious allegations of betrayal, manipulation, and emotional trauma.

In 2024, Eliza Cooney, a former live-in babysitter for the Kennedy children, publicly accused Kennedy of sexually assaulting her in the late 1990s. She described multiple incidents, including groping in a pantry, appearing shirtless in her bedroom, and being asked to rub lotion on his back. Kennedy sent Cooney a text apologizing if he had made her feel uncomfortable, claiming he had no memory of the events. Publicly, he called the allegations “a lot of garbage,” framing them as part of a “rambunctious youth” while refusing to categorically deny the events. These allegations, alongside Mary Richardson’s claims, paint a portrait of private behavior in stark contrast to the public image Kennedy has long projected.

Claims of animal cruelty have also surfaced. A 2010 photograph published in media outlets shows Kennedy with what appears to be a charred animal carcass. While Kennedy claims it was a goat from a Patagonia camping trip, a veterinarian quoted in the press suggested it could be a dog. Fact-checkers cannot conclusively identify the animal, yet the image, whether misinterpreted or not, is troubling in the context of someone who has publicly championed environmental and public health causes.

Ascension to HHS and Early Decisions

In February 2025, Kennedy was sworn in as Secretary of HHS, instantly gaining authority over national health policy, agency staffing, and public health programs. His tenure has been marked by swift, controversial moves. Kennedy launched the “Make America Healthy Again” (MAHA) commission, aiming to address chronic disease and childhood illness, with a focus on prevention and environmental health. He has emphasized removing conflicts of interest from advisory committees, arguing that existing members often have ties to pharmaceutical companies.

Kennedy’s tenure has also included a sweeping reorganization of HHS, consolidating its 28 divisions into 15, centralizing administrative functions, and cutting staff from roughly 82,000 to 62,000 in pursuit of $1.8 billion in annual savings. He has defended these changes as necessary to streamline operations and focus on environmental toxicity, clean water, and healthy food, while critics warn they could weaken public health infrastructure and reduce oversight. Perhaps most controversially, Kennedy has moved to eliminate the long-standing practice of public comment on many HHS decisions. Other early actions have included removing expert members from CDC vaccine advisory committees and revising CDC guidance on autism and vaccines in ways aligned with Kennedy’s previously expressed views.

Higher Education and Kennedy’s Influence

Kennedy’s connection to higher education is both personal and institutional. He attended Harvard College, graduating in 1976 with a degree in American history and literature, and went on to earn a Juris Doctor from the University of Virginia School of Law in 1982. While he has no formal scientific or medical degree, his public role as HHS Secretary gives him authority over federal research funding, grants, and university partnerships.

Since taking office, Kennedy has influenced HHS grants to universities, particularly those focused on public health, environmental research, and childhood disease prevention. Reports indicate he has prioritized funding for schools conducting research aligned with his personal priorities, such as environmental toxicity, vaccine alternatives, and holistic health programs. Critics argue this approach risks politicizing federal funding, favoring institutions that align with his beliefs while disadvantaging traditional biomedical research programs. Some universities have reportedly altered research agendas to secure or maintain grants under Kennedy’s administration, raising concerns about academic independence.

Kennedy’s educational background, combined with his control over grants and research priorities, illustrates how personal ideology and public policy intersect with higher education. It underscores the stakes for universities, faculty, and students: research funding decisions now operate in a landscape influenced by a leader whose private life is controversial and whose professional philosophy challenges established scientific norms.

The Interplay of History, Power, and Trust

The combination of Kennedy’s personal controversies, his public health authority, and his influence on higher education presents a complex portrait of power, legacy, and trust. Allegations from Mary Richardson Kennedy and Eliza Cooney, along with the animal cruelty claims, raise questions about judgment, ethics, and personal responsibility. Now, those questions carry weight far beyond private circles—they intersect with national public health, scientific research, and the education of future professionals.

The public often sees only the polished exterior: speeches, causes, charisma. In Kennedy’s case, the hidden world includes tragic suicide, allegations of sexual misconduct, and disturbing claims regarding animals. These shadows, now coupled with sweeping policy authority and influence over universities, underscore the importance of scrutinizing both character and action. Leadership in public health and science funding is not solely about vision or ambition—it requires judgment, transparency, and accountability.

What Kennedy does next will not just define his legacy; it will shape the health, safety, and education of the country he now serves. For advocates of transparency, survivors of abuse, academic researchers, and public health professionals, watching closely is not optional—it is a civic imperative.

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Sources

Vanity Fair. “RFK Jr.’s Family Doesn’t Want Him to Run. Even They May Not Know His Darkest Secrets.” 2024. https://www.vanityfair.com/news/story/robert-kennedy-jr-shocking-history

New York Post. “Mary Kennedy Accuses Ex-Husband RFK Jr. of Being 'Sexual Deviant' and 'Gaslighting' from Beyond the Grave.” 2025. https://nypost.com/2025/01/29/us-news/rfk-jrs-late-wife-accused-him-of-being-sexual-deviant-addict/

Reuters. “Woman Who Accused RFK Jr. of Sexual Assault Says He Apologized by Text.” 2024. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/woman-who-accused-rfk-jr-sexual-assault-says-he-apologized-by-text-2024-07-12/

Forbes. “RFK Jr. Calls Report Alleging He Sexually Assaulted His Children’s Nanny and Ate a Dog ‘A Lot of Garbage.’” 2024. https://www.forbes.com/sites/siladityaray/2024/07/03/rfk-jr-calls-report-alleging-he-sexually-assaulted-his-childrens-nanny-and-ate-a-dog-a-lot-of-garbage/

WRAL. “RFK Jr. Denies Eating a Dog While Sidestepping Sexual Assault Allegations in Vanity Fair Article.” 2024. https://www.wral.com/story/rfk-jr-denies-eating-a-dog-while-sidestepping-sexual-assault-allegations-in-vanity-fair-article/21508133/

AP News. “RFK Jr. Made Promises About Vaccines. Here's What He's Done as Health Secretary.” 2025. https://apnews.com/article/d1ad570053583d953f15ec3e566e426f

Reuters. “Kennedy Proposes Ending Public Comment on HHS Decisions.” 2025. https://www.reuters.com/business/healthcare-pharmaceuticals/kennedy-proposes-ending-public-comment-hhs-decisions-2025-02-28/

Time. “What to Know About RFK Jr. Removing All Experts From CDC Vaccine Advisory Committee.” 2025. https://time.com/7292553/rfk-jr-removes-cdc-vaccine-committee-experts/

HHS.gov. “Make America Healthy Again Commission Launch.” 2025. https://www.hhs.gov/press-room/eo-maha.html

Extending Gainful Employment to All Institutions—Without Diluting Its Urgent Purpose

The debate over Gainful Employment (GE) regulations is once again heating up, and as usual, the loudest noise doesn’t come from the students who have been harmed, but from the institutions and lobbyists who fear accountability. The GE rule—originally crafted to curb abuses in the for-profit sector—evaluates whether programs leave their students with earnings high enough to reasonably repay the loans pushed onto them. It is, at its core, a consumer-protection regulation intended to protect the people higher education is supposed to serve.

A growing chorus now argues that Gainful Employment should apply to all types of schools, not just vocational programs and for-profit institutions. In principle, that argument is not wrong. Accountability should not be selective. Tuition-driven public universities, prestige-obsessed private nonprofits, elite medical centers with shadowy revenue streams, religious institutions, and wealthy flagships all participate in federal student aid programs. They all receive taxpayer money. They all should have to answer the question: Do your students earn enough to justify the debt you load onto them?

But here is where the trap lies. Expanding GE to all institutions should not become a tactic to delay, dilute, or derail Gainful Employment’s implementation. Too often, calls for “fairness” mask efforts by industry groups and establishment-aligned lobbyists to sidestep regulation altogether. The for-profit sector has used this move for more than a decade. When faced with sanctions after years of deceptive recruiting, falsified job-placement rates, and sky-high default rates, the response was always: “Why us? If GE is good policy, make everyone do it.” It is a clever pivot—not toward accountability, but away from it.

The Department of Education has long understood where the worst abuses lie. Corinthian Colleges, ITT Tech, Education Management Corporation, Career Education Corporation, and dozens more left hundreds of thousands of borrowers financially ruined. Many of these systems were sustained by federal aid despite evidence of fraud; many operated with political cover provided by well-paid lobbyists and deregulation-friendly lawmakers. GE was designed to stop the bleeding—to prevent an industry already steeped in predation from reinventing itself yet again.

Extending GE to all institutions is a worthy goal, but the immediate necessity is to enforce the rule where the risks are greatest. The fact that certain nonprofit and public institutions also produce poor outcomes does not negate the catastrophic harm of the for-profit sector. It simply means that any expansion of GE must follow, not precede, robust implementation.

Moreover, GE should be understood in the broader context of how the higher education finance system evolved. For decades, policymakers outsourced accountability to market forces—encouraging tuition hikes, aggressive lending through the FFEL program, and eventually the widespread securitization of student debt. When cracks began to show in the 1990s and 2000s, the establishment response was not structural reform but technical tinkering. GE was one of the first serious attempts to measure whether federally funded education delivered an actual public benefit. That is precisely why it has been so aggressively contested.

And the truth is, higher education’s accountability debate has always been a history of delay. Institutions insist they need “more data,” “more nuance,” “more consultation,” or “more time,” even as predatory practices continue to metastasize. Expanding GE is necessary. But using expansion as a pretext to stall action only reinforces a system where institutions externalize risk and students internalize debt.

What students and taxpayers deserve today is twofold:
First, a strong GE rule applied immediately to the programs with the highest risk of abuse.
Second, a parallel policy process—transparent, public, and insulated from institutional lobbying—to develop an expansion of GE-style metrics across all schools.

This is not an either-or choice. It is a matter of sequencing and political honesty.

If higher education leaders want GE applied to everyone, they should welcome its implementation in the sectors with the longest record of fraud. If lawmakers want accountability to be universal, they should commit to expanding the regulation—after the current version is enforced, not instead of it. And if critics want fairness, they should start by acknowledging the vast inequities that made GE necessary in the first place.

We cannot pretend that all institutions pose equal risk. But neither can we pretend that only one sector deserves scrutiny. The student debt crisis—forty years in the making—demands real enforcement today and a broader structural fix tomorrow.

Anything less is not reform. It is evasion.

Sources
U.S. Department of Education, Gainful Employment Rulemaking Documentation
Tressie McMillan Cottom, Lower Ed: The Troubling Rise of For-Profit Colleges
Ben Miller, “Asleep at the Switch: How the Department of Education Failed to Police the For-Profit College Industry,” Center for American Progress
Jordan Matsudaira, research on postsecondary accountability metrics
The Century Foundation, reports on proprietary higher education and oversight failures

Higher Education and Its Complicity in U.S. Empire

For more than a century, U.S. higher education has been intertwined with American empire. Universities have served as ideological partners, intelligence hubs, policy workshops, and training grounds for the managers of U.S. global power. When Washington supports authoritarian allies, fuels regional conflicts, or looks away during humanitarian disasters, the academy rarely stands apart. Instead, it aligns itself—through silence, research partnerships, and selective outrage—with the priorities of the federal government and the corporations that profit from U.S. foreign policy.

Recent U.S. actions in Venezuela, Ukraine, Yemen, South Sudan, and Palestine reveal how deeply embedded this pattern has become.

In Venezuela, the United States pursued years of sanctions, covert pressure, and diplomatic isolation as part of a regime-change strategy. Throughout this period, universities repeated a narrow range of policy narratives promoted by the State Department and U.S.-aligned think tanks. Panels and conferences elevated experts connected to defense contractors, oil interests, and government-funded NGOs, while the humanitarian consequences of sanctions and the legality of U.S. interference were often ignored. The atmosphere of academic neutrality masked a clear alignment with Washington’s objectives.

Universities also showed a troubling degree of complicity during Russia’s assault on Ukraine, a war marked by the systematic killing of civilians, mass displacement, and the kidnapping and forced transfer of Ukrainian children into Russia. Even after international human rights organizations and war-crimes investigators documented atrocities, some U.S. institutions maintained partnerships with Russian universities aligned with the Kremlin, accepted visiting scholars linked to state propaganda outlets, or avoided direct condemnation of Putin’s actions for fear of disrupting scientific or financial relationships. In certain cases, academic centers framed the invasion as a “complex geopolitical dispute” rather than a brutal, unilateral attack on a sovereign population, allowing Russian narratives about NATO, Western “provocation,” or Ukrainian illegitimacy to seep into public programming. While some campuses cut ties, others hesitated, revealing how financial incentives, research networks, and institutional caution can blunt moral clarity even in the face of internationally verified crimes against civilians and children.

Higher education’s relationship with the Gulf states adds another dimension to this complicity. As Saudi Arabia waged a catastrophic war in Yemen—with U.S. weapons, logistical support, and diplomatic protection—American universities deepened their financial partnerships with Saudi and Emirati institutions. Engineering programs, medical schools, cybersecurity labs, and energy research centers accepted major gifts and expanded joint research agreements. Few leaders questioned these ties, even as human rights groups documented atrocities in Yemen or as the UAE’s role in proxy conflicts, including episodes in South Sudan, came into sharper focus. Protecting revenue streams took precedence over confronting abuses committed by powerful allies.

Nowhere is the failure of higher education more visible than in its response to Israel’s assault on Gaza. As civilian deaths soared and international human rights organizations sounded alarms about the scale and intent of the military campaign, most universities responded with repression rather than reflection. Administrators disciplined student protesters, sanctioned faculty for political speech, and issued public statements carefully aligned with prevailing U.S. political positions. Research partnerships with Israeli institutions linked to defense industries persisted without scrutiny. Universities that once examined apartheid with clarity struggled to acknowledge parallels when the subject was Palestine. Donor sensitivities, political pressures, and fear of congressional retaliation overwhelmed any commitment to moral consistency or academic freedom.

The same institutional behavior is likely if U.S. policy shifts in East Asia. Should Washington move toward accommodating the People’s Republic of China’s ambitions regarding Taiwan—whether through diplomatic recalibration or reduced willingness to intervene—universities will likely adapt quickly. The history of U.S.-China normalization in the 1970s showed how fast higher education can reorient itself when geopolitical winds change. Partnerships, narratives, and research agendas would shift to align with new federal signals, demonstrating again that universities follow the imperatives of state power more readily than they challenge them.

The deeper issue is structural. U.S. higher education relies on federal research funding, defense and intelligence partnerships, corporate relationships, overseas investment programs, and philanthropic networks shaped by geopolitical interests. Endowments are tied to global markets that profit from conflict. Study-abroad and academic exchange programs depend on diplomatic priorities. Administrators understand that openly challenging U.S. foreign policy—from Venezuela to Ukraine, from Yemen to Gaza—can threaten institutional stability and funding. Silence or selective engagement becomes the safest administrative posture.

If the academy hopes to reclaim its integrity, it must learn to confront rather than replicate state power. That requires transparency about foreign funding and defense contracts, protection for dissenting scholars and students, genuine engagement with global South perspectives, and ethical evaluation of partnerships with authoritarian governments. Universities cannot prevent wars, but they can refuse to serve as intellectual and financial enablers of violence.

Until such changes occur, higher education will remain entangled in the machinery of U.S. empire, complicit not through passivity but through the routine normalization of policies that inflict suffering around the world.

 
Sources

Amnesty International; Human Rights Watch; United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs; U.S. Congressional Research Service; Quincy Institute for Responsible Statecraft; Brown University’s Costs of War Project; Washington Post and New York Times reporting on U.S. sanctions and foreign policy; Investigations by the Associated Press, Reuters, and Al Jazeera on Yemen, Gaza, Venezuela, and South Sudan; HEI archives and independent higher education researchers.

ED FOIA regarding Thompson Coburn Law Firm (26-00709-F)

The Higher Education Inquirer is requesting any and all email correspondence between the US Department of Education and the Thompson Coburn Law Firm from January 6, 2025 to November 24, 2025. 

We are particularly interested in the following areas related to higher education:

Gainful Employment
Bare Minimum Rule
Borrower Defense to Repayment
Student Loan Forgiveness
Title IX
False Claims Act
Federal Funding Freeze Litigation
DEI Executive Orders Litigation, the Dear Colleague Letter Litigation, and DOJ’s July 2025 Guidance on Unlawful Discrimination
Executive Order 14242 Directing the Closure of ED
Grant Termination
Rate Cap Policy Litigation
Student and Exchange Visitor Program Litigation
Legality of Nationwide Injunctions
Program Participation Agreement Signatory Litigation

Related link:

Defenders of the Higher Ed Business: How Lawyers Shield a Broken Industry

PXED Throws US Department of Education Under the Bus Regarding Enrollment Fraud

[Editor's note: The Higher Education Inquirer has requested all Department of Education correspondence related to "unusual" or "suspicious" enrollment regarding the University of Phoenix.]   

Phoenix Education Partners (PXED), parent company of the University of Phoenix, used its latest earnings call to advance a familiar narrative: when things go wrong, blame the U.S. Department of Education. This time, CEO Chris Lynne positioned ED as the primary culprit behind the suspicious-enrollment surge that distorted PXED’s numbers over the past year.

The exchange began when Goldman Sachs analyst George Tong asked the question PXED tried to sidestep throughout its IPO process: How much of PXED’s slowing FY2026 enrollment growth is due to fraud controls, and how much of it is due to friction created for legitimate students? And, crucially, what prevents these distortions from resurfacing in the next cycle?

Lynne offered no numbers. Instead, he pivoted to a sweeping explanation of PXED’s “advanced algorithms” and internal control systems—systems so forceful that they immediately block applicants once certain thresholds are hit, even when PXED cannot determine whether they’ve flagged a real student or a bad actor.

But once the CEO finished describing these internal measures, he returned to the real point he wanted to deliver to Wall Street: this is the Department of Education’s fault, not PXED’s.

According to Lynne, the “root” cause was a breakdown in ED’s identity-verification controls tied to the troubled rollout of the new FAFSA. The Department “publicly acknowledged” the failure, Lynne said, and PXED executives met with ED in September to confirm that the government finally has “a good handle on this.” In Lynne’s telling, PXED is the responsible party cleaning up a federal mess.

What this framing ignores is everything that came before. PXED and its predecessor, the University of Phoenix, have long histories of enrollment-integrity problems that predate the FAFSA meltdown by more than a decade. When Lynne says his algorithms “cleaned up” the funnel after being moved to the top of the application process, what he really means is that PXED used its own filters—its own black-box controls—to decide which students were worth staff time and which were not.

And PXED quietly admitted the cost. The verification loops and algorithmic filters caught many real students, blocking or delaying their enrollment and layering additional obstacles onto people who already face the steepest barriers in higher education. Lynne dismissed this as mere “friction”—a small price to pay for cleaner numbers.

But the larger problem is structural. For-profit systems built on volume rely on conversions, throughput, and funnel efficiency. When that model is threatened, the instinct is not to repair student-facing systems—it's to blame the government, tighten internal controls, and preserve the revenue pipeline. PXED’s decision to throw ED under the bus fits that pattern exactly.

The real story isn’t that the Department of Education made serious mistakes in rolling out the new FAFSA—mistakes it has acknowledged. The real story is how quickly companies like PXED use those failures as a shield, deflecting accountability for their own long-standing recruitment practices and quietly punishing the very students they claim to serve.

Phoenix Education Partners, FAFSA Fraud, and the Familiar Dance of Blame

When Phoenix Education Partners (PXED) CEO Chris Lynne publicly blamed the U.S. Department of Education for missing fraud in FAFSA applications—fraud that allowed the University of Phoenix to enroll individuals engaged in financial-aid misconduct—he likely hoped to redirect scrutiny away from his own shop. Instead, the maneuver sent up a flare. For many observers of the for-profit college sector, it felt like the return of a well-worn tactic: deflect, distract, and deny responsibility until the heat dies down.

The pivot toward blaming the Department of Education does not merely look defensive; it echoes a pattern that helped bring down an entire generation of predatory schools. And it raises a simple question: why is PXED responding like institutions that have something to hide?


The Old Script, Updated

The University of Phoenix, under PXED’s ownership, carries not just a long memory of investigations and settlements but a structural DNA shaped by years of aggressive enrollment management, marketing overreach, and high-pressure tactics. When the industry was confronted with evidence of systemic abuses—lying about job placement, enrolling ineligible students, manipulating financial-aid rules—the typical industry defense was to claim that problems were caused by bad actors, by misinterpreted regulations, or by a sluggish and incompetent Department of Education.

Those excuses were not convincing then, and they ring even more hollow now.

If individuals involved in financial-aid fraud managed to slip into the system, an institution with PXED’s history should be the first to strengthen internal controls, not pass the buck. Schools are required under federal law to verify eligibility, prevent fraud, and monitor suspicious patterns. Pretending that ED is solely responsible ignores the compliance structure PXED is obligated—by statute—to maintain.

Why Blame-Shifting Looks So Suspicious

Instead of demonstrating transparency or releasing information about internal controls that failed, PXED’s leadership has opted for a public relations gambit: blame the regulator. This raises several concerns.

First, shifting responsibility before releasing evidence suggests that PXED may be more focused on reputational management than on institutional accountability. If the organization’s processes were sound, those facts would speak louder—and more credibly—than an accusatory press statement.

Second, the posture is déjà vu for people who have tracked the sector for decades. Corinthian Colleges, ITT Tech, Education Management Corp., and Career Education Corporation all blamed ED at various stages of their collapses. In each case, deflection became part of the pattern that preceded deeper revelations of systemic abuse.

When PXED’s CEO adopts similar rhetoric, observers reasonably wonder whether history is repeating itself—again.

Finally, PXED’s argument undermines trust at a moment when the University of Phoenix is already under skepticism from accreditors, policymakers, student-borrower advocates, and the public. Instead of strengthening compliance, PXED’s messaging signals defensiveness. Institutions with nothing to hide usually take a different approach.

The Structural Issues PXED Doesn’t Want to Discuss

PXED acquired the University of Phoenix with promises of modernization, stabilization, and responsible stewardship. But beneath the marketing, core challenges remain:

A business model dependent on federal aid. The more a school relies on federal dollars, the stronger its responsibility to prevent fraud—not the weaker.

A compliance culture shaped by profit pressure. For-profit education has repeatedly shown how financial incentives can distort admissions and oversight.

A credibility deficit. PXED took over an institution known internationally for deceptive advertising and financial-aid abuses. Blaming ED only magnifies the perception that nothing has fundamentally changed.

A fragile regulatory environment. With oversight tightening and student-protection rules returning, PXED cannot afford to gesture toward the old for-profit playbook. Doing so suggests they are trying to manage optics instead of outcomes.

What Accountability Would Look Like

If PXED wanted to demonstrate leadership rather than defensiveness, a different response was available:

• Conduct and publish a full internal review of financial-aid intake processes
• Outline steps to prevent enrollment of fraudulent actors
• Acknowledge institutional lapses—and explain how they occurred
• Invite independent audits rather than blaming federal partners
• Demonstrate an understanding of fiduciary obligations to students and taxpayers

This is the standard expected of Title IV institutions. It is also the standard PXED insists they meet.

A Familiar Pattern at a Familiar Institution

Every moment of pressure reveals something about institutional culture. PXED’s choice to immediately fault the Department of Education—without presenting evidence of its own vigilance—suggests that the company may still be operating according to the old Phoenix playbook: when in doubt, blame someone else.

But in 2025, the public, regulators, and students have seen this movie before. And they know how it ends.

Sources
U.S. Department of Education, Federal Student Aid Handbook
Senate HELP Committee, For-Profit Higher Education: The Failure to Safeguard the Federal Investment and Ensure Student Success
Federal Trade Commission, University of Phoenix Settlement Documents
U.S. Department of Education, Program Review and Compliance Requirements
Higher Education Inquirer archives

Defenders of the Higher Ed Business: How Lawyers Shield a Broken Industry

In the long decline of American higher education, a certain class of professionals has quietly prospered—lawyers who specialize in defending institutions from the consequences of their own behavior. These attorneys rarely appear in public debates over student debt, predatory recruitment, or collapsing regional colleges. Yet their fingerprints are everywhere: in courtroom strategies designed to run out the clock, in motions that narrow the rights of borrowers, in settlement agreements that mask wrongdoing without forcing structural reform. They are the legal custodians of an industry that has spent decades avoiding accountability.

These lawyers often frame their role as neutral, simply providing representation to clients who need it. But the nature of the representation matters. When institutions mislead students, inflate job-placement claims, push them into unaffordable debt, or fire whistleblowers who object to unethical practices, these firms defend the institution—not the student, not the truth, and certainly not the public interest. Litigation summaries and public communications frequently present a parallel universe in which colleges are the victims, regulators are overreaching meddlers, and students who seek restitution are opportunists or pawns of political forces.

The legal work is highly lucrative. In many cases, struggling institutions spend more on their attorneys than they do on direct student support. Colleges on the brink of closure still find six-figure retainers to fight state attorney general investigations or borrower defense claims. Public institutions use taxpayer dollars to shield themselves from transparency, all while students—particularly first-generation, low-income, and working-class students—absorb the losses. Attorneys in this sector are acutely aware of the harms their clients may have caused, yet their work consistently prioritizes institutional preservation over student restitution.

The history of this defense strategy is well documented. In 2011, federal courts began seeing cases from former students challenging institutions for misleading claims, untransferable credits, and failure to provide promised training. Courts often compelled arbitration, effectively removing class action rights and leaving individual students to pursue costly and complex proceedings alone. This pattern set a precedent: institutional defense relied on procedural tools rather than addressing substantive misconduct. Between 2012 and 2013, state supreme courts upheld arbitration clauses that stripped students of collective redress, signaling to institutions that strategic legal defenses could block accountability. Students’ claims of misrepresentation, fraud, and breaches of enrollment agreements were repeatedly forced into private arbitration. The courts emphasized procedural enforcement over consideration of the underlying harms, allowing institutions to continue operating without public scrutiny.

From 2015 to 2018, the Department of Education’s Inspector General documented widespread mismanagement of federal Title IV funds, showing that hundreds of millions in federal loans were issued to students at institutions that were later found to have misrepresented outcomes or violated federal regulations. Lawsuits brought by former students during this period, including allegations under the False Claims Act, were often dismissed or compelled to arbitration. Institutions were shielded, while borrowers were left with debt and limited recourse.

In 2018 and 2019, state attorneys general filed enforcement actions against multiple institutions for fraudulent recruitment practices and misrepresentation of accreditation status. In almost every case, institutions relied on their legal teams to secure procedural victories: dismissal of class action claims, enforcement of arbitration clauses, and delays in settlements. While regulators attempted to intervene, the structural power of corporate legal defense delayed, diluted, or obscured accountability. During the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020–2021, students sued institutions for failure to provide adequate online instruction and for abrupt changes in course delivery. Defense attorneys successfully argued that enrollment agreements allowed these operational changes, resulting in widespread dismissal of student claims. Again, institutional defense won the day while students absorbed the financial and educational consequences.

From 2022 to 2025, the Borrower Defense to Repayment program and the SAVE Plan promised relief for students harmed by mismanaged institutions. Yet litigation and regulatory challenges have slowed implementation. Institutions and their attorneys have repeatedly used procedural maneuvers to contest forgiveness, compel arbitration, or delay repayments, leaving thousands of students in limbo while debt accumulates. Throughout this period, legal strategy has consistently prioritized institutional survival over student restitution. Arbitration clauses, procedural dismissals, and regulatory delay have allowed colleges and universities to maintain access to federal funds, complete mergers, or restructure under bankruptcy protection, all while leaving harmed students with debt, disrupted education, and minimal legal recourse.

These attorneys also help shape the narratives consumed by policymakers, journalists, and college trustees. Public-facing summaries often downplay institutional misconduct and amplify court decisions that limit student rights. They rarely acknowledge the emotional and financial devastation suffered by borrowers or the systemic risks created when institutions know their lawyers can absorb most of the blow. Instead, they champion a legal environment that treats higher education primarily as a business subject to claims risk, not as a public trust.

Justice, in this ecosystem, becomes a matter of resources. Students and former employees face a wall of corporate legal expertise, while institutions with long records of abuse continue to operate behind settlements and sealed agreements. Attorneys who could use their considerable skills to protect the most vulnerable instead use them to reinforce a system that extracts value from students and leaves them to fend for themselves once the promises fall apart.

The Higher Education Inquirer has long documented the College Meltdown: the closures, the debt, the failed oversight, and the human cost. But the meltdown is not only a story about administrators, investors, or federal agencies. It is also a story about the lawyers who defend the indefensible and who help maintain a higher education marketplace where accountability is optional and harm is routine. They may sleep well, but only because the consequences of their work are borne by others.

The question is not how they sleep at night. The question is how many more students will lose before the legal strategies that protect institutions are no longer enough to protect the industry itself.

Sources:

U.S. Department of Education, Borrower Defense to Repayment decision data, 2022–2025

Government Accountability Office (GAO), “For-Profit Colleges: Student Outcomes and Federal Oversight,” 2021

Department of Education Office of Federal Student Aid, Borrower Defense decisions, 2020–2025

State Attorneys General filings and enforcement actions against higher education institutions, 2018–2023

U.S. Department of Education Office of Inspector General, audits and reports on Title IV program compliance, 2015–2022

GAO report on arbitration clauses in for-profit colleges, 2018

How Educated Neoliberals Built the Homelessness Crisis—and Why HUD’s New Cuts Will Make It Worse

The US Department of Housing and Urban Development has quietly announced one of the most drastic federal rollbacks in homelessness policy in decades: a massive cut to permanent housing under the Continuum of Care (CoC) program, with more than half of its 2026 funding diverted to transitional housing and compliance-based services. HUD’s own internal estimates warn that up to 170,000 people could lose housing as a result of the shift. For millions of Americans, especially those on the margins, this is not a policy adjustment; it is the beginning of a humanitarian disaster.

To understand how we arrived here, it is not enough to point at the Trump administration, the ideological crusade against “Housing First,” or the White House Faith Office now shaping federal grantmaking. One must also examine the educated neoliberals who built and normalized the system that made this possible.

HUD’s policy change overturns decades of federal commitment to permanent supportive housing, an evidence-backed model that dramatically reduces chronic homelessness. The new Notice of Funding Opportunity caps permanent housing at just 30 percent of CoC dollars, down from 87 percent in prior years, while the remainder is funneled toward transitional housing, work or service requirements, mandatory treatment, and faith-based compliance programs. The total funding for 2026 is roughly $3.9 billion across 7,000 grants. That amount, spread across hundreds of thousands of people experiencing homelessness, is barely sufficient to provide minimal assistance, let alone stable housing or the comprehensive services this population needs. One-third of existing programs will run out of funds before the new awards are issued in May, leaving vulnerable individuals exposed to eviction during the harshest months of winter. Ann Oliva, CEO of the National Alliance to End Homelessness and a former HUD official, described the rollout as deeply irresponsible, warning that the administration is setting communities up for failure.

For decades, U.S. policy has been shaped not just by conservatives but also by a sprawling class of highly educated managers: MBAs, MPPs, JDs, think-tank fellows, foundation executives, nonprofit administrators, and “innovation” consultants. They came from America’s elite universities, fluent in market logic, managerialism, and austerity politics. They preached efficiency, accountability, metrics, and self-sufficiency. Many also personally accumulated wealth, often owning multiple homes, benefiting from investment income, and exploiting loopholes to minimize or avoid taxes. Meanwhile, the programs they manage shrink support for the poor and vulnerable.

Through their influence, housing became a program, not a public good. Public housing construction largely disappeared, replaced by a grant-driven, nonprofit marketplace controlled by elite professionals. Even the funding allocated for CoC programs, though nominally in the billions, is deliberately minimal. This scarcity forces competition, instability, and suffering among poor people. Nonprofit executives, most of whom depend on federal contracts and foundation dollars, rarely challenge the economic and political structures that produce homelessness. Accountability rhetoric replaced structural change, reframing homelessness as an issue of individual behavior rather than a systemic failure. The academy normalized the idea that poor people should suffer, teaching a generation of managers to prioritize markets, metrics, and “innovation” over human need. This bipartisan, university-trained professional class laid the foundation for the HUD cuts now threatening hundreds of thousands of lives.

HUD argues that the new model “restores accountability” and reduces the purported waste of Housing First, but decades of research contradict that claim. Permanent supportive housing reduces chronic homelessness, lowers emergency and policing costs, stabilizes people with disabilities, and is cheaper than institutionalization or shelters. Transitional housing with mandatory compliance, on the other hand, repeatedly pushes people back to the streets, disproportionately harms people with disabilities, increases mortality, inflates administrative costs, and creates churn rather than stability. The policy is not a mistake; it reflects the calculated priorities of an elite managerial class whose worldview demands austerity for the poor while allowing them to flourish materially.

The response in Washington has been striking. Forty-two Senate Democrats warned HUD that the shift violates the McKinney-Vento Act, undermines local decision-making, and rejects decades of federally funded research. Even twenty House Republicans urged careful implementation to avoid destabilizing services for seniors and disabled people. Yet decades of neoliberal policymaking—funded and legitimized by universities, foundations, and think tanks—have already created a system in which poverty and suffering are baked into federal policy. This latest HUD action simply codifies that worldview.

The crisis unfolding now is not just the product of Trump’s ideological war on Housing First. It is the logical endpoint of decades of privatization, the erosion of public housing, elite consensus around austerity, credentialed managerialism, the nonprofit-industrial complex, the foundation-university revolving door, and the belief—deeply embedded in higher education—that markets and metrics should govern everything. Many of these policymakers and nonprofit executives own multiple homes, refuse to pay taxes, and structure federal policy to ensure the poor remain dependent, unstable, and suffering. The people most directly harmed are those with the least political power: disabled people, elderly tenants, veterans, people with serious mental illness, women fleeing violence, and families trying to survive an economy that no longer works for them. Behind them stands a class of educated neoliberals who built the systems that made this outcome possible, often congratulating themselves for “innovation” while allowing misery to proliferate. This is not failure. This is design.

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Sources:

• Politico, “HUD to Cut Permanent Housing Funding for Homeless Programs,” 2025.

• National Alliance to End Homelessness, internal HUD funding documents, 2025.

• Ann Oliva, National Alliance to End Homelessness, statements to POLITICO, 2025.

• McKinney-Vento Homeless Assistance Act, 1987.

• HUD Notice of Funding Opportunity, 2026 Continuum of Care Program.

• Executive Order: “Ending Crime and Disorder on America’s Streets,” White House, 2025.

The College Meltdown Index: Profiting from the Wreckage of American Higher Education

“Education, once defended as a public good, now functions as a vehicle for private gain.”

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From Collapse to Contagion

The College Meltdown never truly ended—it evolved.

After a decade of spectacular for-profit implosions, the higher education sector has reconstituted itself around new instruments of profit: debt servicing, edtech speculation, and corporate “partnerships” that disguise privatization as innovation.

The College Meltdown Index—tracking a mix of education providers, servicers, and learning platforms—reveals a sector in quiet decay.

Legacy for-profits like National American University (NAUH) and Aspen Group (ASPU) trade at penny-stock levels, while Lincoln Educational (LINC) and Perdoceo (PRDO) stumble through cost-cutting cycles.

Even the supposed disruptors—Chegg (CHGG), Udemy (UDMY), and Coursera (COUR)—are faltering as user growth plateaus and AI reshapes their value proposition.

Meanwhile, SoFi (SOFI), Sallie Mae (SLM), and Maximus (MMS) thrive—not through learning, but through the management of debt.

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The Meltdown Graveyard

Below lies a sampling of the education sector’s ghost tickers—the silent casualties of a system that turned public trust into private loss.

Symbol	Institution	Status	Approx. Closure/Delisting
CLAS.U	Class Technologies	Defunct	2024
INST	Instructure (pre-acquisition)	Acquired by Thoma Bravo	2020
TWOUQ	2U, Inc.	Bankrupt	2025
CPLA	Capella University	Merged with Strayer (Strategic Ed.)	2018
ESI-OLD	ITT Technical Institute	Defunct	2016
EDMC	Education Management Corporation	Defunct	2018
COCO-OLD	Corinthian Colleges	Defunct	2015
APOL	Apollo Education Group (U. of Phoenix)	Taken Private	2017

Each ticker represents not only a failed business model—but a generation of indebted students.

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The Phoenix That Shouldn’t Have Risen

No institution better symbolizes this moral decay than the University of Phoenix and Phoenix Education Partners (PXED).

At its height, Phoenix enrolled nearly half a million students. By 2017, following federal investigations and mass defaults, Apollo Education Group—its parent company—collapsed under scrutiny.

But rather than disappearing, Phoenix was quietly resurrected through a private equity buyout led by Apollo Global Management, Vistria Group, and Najafi Companies.

Freed from public oversight, the university continued to enroll vulnerable adult learners, harvesting federal aid while shedding accountability.

In 2023, the University of Idaho’s proposed acquisition of Phoenix provoked national outrage, forcing state officials to confront a basic question: Should a public university absorb a for-profit brand built on exploitation?

The deal collapsed—but the temptation to monetize Phoenix’s infrastructure remains. In 2025, a small portion became publicly traded.  Its call centers and online systems remain models of enrollment efficiency, designed to extract just enough engagement to secure tuition payments.

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From Education to Extraction

The sector’s transformation reveals a deeper moral hazard.

If students succeed, investors profit.
If students fail, federal subsidies and servicer contracts ensure the money keeps flowing.

Executives face no downside. Shareholders are protected. The losses fall on students and taxpayers.

In this sense, the “meltdown” is not a market failure—it’s a market design.

“The winners are those who most efficiently extract value from hope.”

Public universities increasingly partner with private Online Program Managers (OPMs), leasing their brands to companies that control marketing, pricing, and student data. The once-clear line between public and for-profit education has blurred beyond recognition.

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The Quiet Winners of Collapse

A few companies continue to prosper by aligning with “practical” or “mission-safe” sectors:

• Adtalem (ATGE) in nursing and health education,

• Grand Canyon Education (LOPE) in faith-branded online degrees,

• Bright Horizons (BFAM) in corporate childcare and workforce training.

Yet all remain heavily dependent on public dollars and tax incentives. The state subsidizes their existence; the market collects the rewards.

Meanwhile, 2U’s bankruptcy leaves elite universities scrambling to explain how a publicly traded OPM, once championed as the future of online learning, could disintegrate overnight—taking with it a network of high-priced “nonprofit” certificate programs.

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A Reckoning Deferred

The College Meltdown Index exposes a system that has internalized its own failures.
Fraud has been replaced by financial engineering, transparency by outsourcing, and accountability by spin.

The real collapse is not in the market—but in moral logic. Education, once the cornerstone of social mobility, has become a speculative instrument traded between hedge funds and holding companies.

Until policymakers—and universities themselves—confront the ethics of profit in higher education, the meltdown will persist, slowly consuming what remains of the public good.

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“The real question is not whether the system will collapse, but who will rebuild it—and for whom.”

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Sources:

• Higher Education Inquirer, College Meltdown 2.0 Index (Nov. 2025)

• SEC Filings (2010–2025)

• U.S. Department of Education, Heightened Cash Monitoring Reports

• An American Sickness – Elisabeth Rosenthal

• The Goosestep – Upton Sinclair

• Medical Apartheid – Harriet A. Washington

• Body and Soul – Alondra Nelson

• The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks – Rebecca Skloot

Examining the Debt and Earnings of “Professional” Programs (Robert Kelchen)

 [Editor's note: This article first appeared in the Robert Kelchen Blog.] 

Robert Kelchen Read on blog or Reader Examining the Debt and Earnings of “Professional” Programs By Robert on November 10, 2025 Negotiated rulemaking, in which the federal government convenes representatives of affected parties before implementing major policy changes, is one of the wonkier topics in higher education. (I cannot recommend enough Rebecca Natow’s book on the topic.) Negotiated rulemaking has been in the news quite a bit lately as the Department of Education works to implement changes to federal student loan borrowing limits passed in this summer’s budget reconciliation law. Since 2006, students attending graduate and professional programs have been able to borrow up to the cost of attendance. But the reconciliation law limited graduate programs to $100,000 and professional programs to $200,000, setting off negotiations on which programs counted as “professional” (and thus received higher loan limits). The Department of Education started with ten programs and the list eventually went to eleven with the addition of clinical psychology. In this short post, I take a look at the debt and earnings of these programs that meet ED’s definition of “professional,” along with a few other programs that could be considered professional but were not. Data and Methods I used program-level College Scorecard data, focusing on debt data from 2019 and five-year earnings data from 2020. (These are the most recent data points available, as the Scorecard has not been meaningfully updated during the second Trump administration. Five-year earnings get students in health fields beyond medical residencies. I pulled all doctoral/first professional fields from the data by four-digit Classification of Instructional Programs codes, as well as master’s degrees in theology to meet the listed criteria. Nine of the eleven programs had enough graduates with debt and earnings to report data; osteopathic medicine and podiatry did not. There were five other fields of study with at least 14 programs reporting data: education, educational administration, rehabilitation, nursing, and business administration. All of these clearly prepare people for employment in a profession, but are not currently recognized as “professional.” Key takeaways Below is a summary table of debt and earnings for professional programs, including the number of programs above the $100,000 (graduate) and $200,000 (professional) thresholds. Dentistry, pharmacy, and medicine have a sizable share of programs above the $100,000 threshold, while law (the largest field) has only four of 195 programs over $200,000. Theology is the only one of the nine “professional” programs with sufficient data that has higher five-year earnings than debt, suggesting that students in other programs may have a hard time accessing the private market to fill the gap between $200,000 and the full cost of attendance. On the other hand, four of the five programs not included as “professional” have higher earnings than debt, with nursing and educational administration being the only programs with sufficient data that had debt levels below 60% of earnings. More than one-third of rehabilitation programs had debt over the new $100,000 cap, while few programs in other fields had that high of a debt level. (Education looks pretty good now, doesn’t it?) I expect the debate over what counts as “professional” to end up in courts and to possibly make its way into a future budget reconciliation bill (about the only way Congress passes legislation at this point). Until then, I will be hoping for newer and more granular data about affected programs.