We extend our deepest gratitude to the many courageous voices who have contributed to the Higher Education Inquirer over the years. Through research, reporting, whistleblowing, analysis, and public service, you have exposed inequities, challenged powerful interests, and helped the public understand the realities of higher education.
In the platform-dominated economy, Indeed.com has established itself as the central marketplace for jobseekers and employers alike, boasting tens of millions of listings across industries and geographies. But behind its user-friendly design lies a powerful, opaque system that reinforces labor precarity, exploits the desperation of the underemployed, and facilitates fraud and exploitation—including through job scams designed to funnel people into for-profit colleges and dubious training schemes.
Indeed’s rise is emblematic of a larger pattern in the U.S. political economy, where platforms extract profit from human need—especially from the millions of Americans struggling to find secure employment in a shrinking labor market. While claiming to connect jobseekers with opportunity, Indeed increasingly operates as a gatekeeper and a filter, favoring employers with the ability to pay for prominence, and quietly profiting from a user base navigating worsening inequality.
From Opportunity to Exploitation: The Platform Economy
Indeed’s near-monopoly over online job listings positions it as the Amazon of employment—a central aggregator of job ads, resume submissions, employer reviews, and workforce data. Its business model is rooted in ad-based revenue: companies pay to boost job visibility, while jobseekers receive a flood of suggested listings—many of which are irrelevant, low-quality, or outright deceptive.
One particularly disturbing trend: a growing number of "job postings" on Indeed are not job offers at all, but veiled advertisements for for-profit colleges and unaccredited training programs. These listings typically appear legitimate, bearing the titles of medical assistant, phlebotomist, cybersecurity technician, or paralegal. But once an applicant shows interest, they are quickly routed to admissions representatives, not employers. In short, they’ve fallen for a bait-and-switch scheme.
Indeed does little to prevent these tactics. Despite flagging mechanisms and user complaints, scammers and aggressive recruiters return repeatedly under new listings or shell company names. And because these advertisers pay to promote their listings, there is a built-in conflict of interest: Indeed profits from ads designed to exploit vulnerable jobseekers, many of whom are already burdened by unemployment, underemployment, or student debt.
The Job Training Charade: A National Problem
As labor economist Gordon Lafer argues in The Job Training Charade, job training programs have long functioned as a public relations tool for elected officials, who promise “skills-based solutions” rather than structural labor reform. Publicly funded retraining programs and for-profit career schools capitalize on this narrative, convincing jobseekers that their struggles stem from a personal “skills gap” rather than systemic inequality.
Indeed’s platform reinforces this logic by flooding users with listings that promote training and certification programs as prerequisites for jobs that often don’t exist or pay poorly. Even in legitimate industries—like healthcare and IT—the overabundance of credential inflation and unnecessary gatekeeping leads to further debt accumulation without guaranteeing meaningful work.
As Lafer writes, “Training has become a substitute for economic policy—a way of appearing to do something without actually improving people’s lives.” And Indeed is a willing partner in this substitution, profiting from a constant churn of dislocated workers trying to retool their résumés and lives to meet an ever-shifting set of employer demands.
The Educated Underclass and Platform Paternalism
Gary Roth, in The Educated Underclass, identifies another critical aspect of this ecosystem: the overproduction of college graduates relative to the needs of the labor market. As more people earn degrees, the wage premium diminishes, and once-secure professions become crowded with overqualified applicants chasing scarce opportunities.
Indeed’s platform becomes the proving ground for this underclass: college-educated workers competing for service jobs, temp contracts, or entry-level roles barely above minimum wage. Meanwhile, the site’s tools—resume scores, AI-based job match algorithms, and automated rejection letters—reinforce the idea that unemployment is a personal failure rather than a structural outcome.
This is platform paternalism at its worst. Jobseekers are “nudged” into applying for low-quality work, “encouraged” to pursue unnecessary training, and surveilled through behavioral data that is packaged and sold to employers and third-party marketers. Career development becomes not a public good but a private product—sold back to workers in pieces, with no guarantee of outcome.
Job Scams and Regulatory Blind Spots
The Federal Trade Commission (FTC) and state attorneys general have received thousands of complaints about online job scams—including fake recruiters, phony employers, and misleading school advertisements. Yet enforcement remains weak, and platforms like Indeed enjoy limited legal liability, protected by Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act, which shields them from responsibility for user-generated content.
Even when caught, fraudulent advertisers often reappear. As one whistleblower told The Higher Education Inquirer, “We’d flag scam listings, and two days later they’d pop back up under a new name. It was like a game of whack-a-mole—and no one at the top cared.”
Indeed's user agreement explicitly disclaims responsibility for the authenticity of job listings. And although the company has instituted basic verification and reporting tools, they are inadequate to stem the tide of predatory postings, especially those tied to the multibillion-dollar for-profit education industry.
A Broken System Masquerading as Innovation
The consolidation of online job markets under platforms like Indeed represents a profound shift in the political economy of labor. No longer mediated by public institutions or strong unions, the search for work is now a privatized experience, managed by algorithms, monetized through ads, and vulnerable to deception.
To be clear: Indeed does not create jobs. It creates the illusion of access. It obscures labor precarity behind UX design and paid listings. It enables fraudulent training pipelines while pushing the burden of risk and cost onto workers. And it profits from the widening chasm between what higher education promises and what the economy delivers.
At The Higher Education Inquirer, we demand accountability—not just from institutions of higher learning but from the platforms that now mediate our futures. The illusion must be pierced, and jobseeking must be reclaimed as a public function, free from predation, profiteering, and platform capture.
Sources:
Lafer, Gordon. The Job Training Charade. Cornell University Press, 2002.
Roth, Gary. The Educated Underclass: Students and the Promise of Social Mobility. Pluto Press, 2019.
U.S. Federal Trade Commission (FTC). “Job Scams: What You Need to Know.” 2024.
Recruit Holdings. Annual Reports and Investor Presentations, 2020–2024.
U.S. Department of Labor. “Contingent and Alternative Employment Arrangements.” 2023.
Brody, Leslie. “Students Lured Into For-Profit Colleges Through Fake Job Ads.” Wall Street Journal, 2022.
Zuboff, Shoshana. The Age of Surveillance Capitalism. PublicAffairs, 2019.
Glassdoor, Indeed, and CareerBuilder community complaint forums (2021–2025).
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
Coursera (COUR) is an online educational provider, most notably known for its Stanford grad founders, its free Massive Open Online Courses and its relationship with elite schools like University of Pennsylvania, University of Michigan, and University of Illinois who have provided content.
After about a decade of existence, amid the Covid pandemic, the company has decided to go public, with the help of Goldman Sachs, Morgan Stanley, Citigroup and others acting as underwriters. Coursera has never made a profit even though it has enormous margins, taking the lion's share of the revenues from its joint operations with notable schools.
Like the Laureate Education IPO in 2017, Coursera's intentions are global in scope. Laureate's IPO sold the idea that there was a growing global middle class that needed education and was willing to pay for it. But Laureate's slogan "Here For Good"became a bad joke as the global economy worsened and the company downsized.
Coursera has already served tens of millions of people, most of whom gained access for free or next to nothing--other than having an internet connection.
Like Laureate, Coursera has also received funding from the World Bank, but in 2021 the picture is framed differently. Coursera's idea is that the world's labor force is facing a more challenging and perhaps bleak future, a "double disruption" of a global pandemic and increased automation, and the notion that COUR can profit from this disruption.
The company's Prospectus states:
According to our estimates based on data from the International Labour Organization, the global workforce will grow by 230 million people by 2030. This is expected to happen at a time when up to half of today’s jobs, around 2 billion, are at high risk of disappearing due to automation and other factors driving obsolescence by 2030, according to The International Commission on Financing Global Education Opportunity.
So how will Coursera make a profit? According to Gary Roth, author of The Educated Underclass, "Many of these unprofitable, investment-capital initiatives only succeed if they can cannibalize other parts of the economy (e.g. Home Depot or Lowe's versus traditional hardware stores). The education sector is already unprofitable and requires massive amounts of public funding. We'll see if initiates like this can survive."
Roth added that Coursera is mostly "confined to pre-professional and professional areas like non-technical business disciplines that don’t require huge inputs of expertise or equipment. The humanities are out, as are the sciences. They also represent a low tier of degrees, without much respect from much of the ‘employing class’, most of whom graduated from decent-quality liberal arts or state-funded schools."
[In 2017, we collaborated with Crush the Street on a video describing the College Meltdown.]
“Education is not merely a credentialing system; it is a humanizing act that fosters connection, purpose, and community.”
Origins
The College Meltdown began in the mid-2010s as a blog chronicling the slow collapse of U.S. higher education. Rising tuition, mounting student debt, and corporatization were visible signs, but the deeper crisis was structural: the erosion of public accountability and mission.
By 2015, the warning signs were unmistakable to us. On some campuses, student spaces were closed to host corporate “best practices” conferences. At many schools, adjunct instructors carried the bulk of teaching responsibilities, often without benefits, while administrators celebrated innovation. Higher education was quietly being reshaped to benefit corporations over students and communities — a true meltdown.
Patterns of the Meltdown
Enrollment in U.S. colleges began declining as early as 2011, reflecting broader demographic shifts: fewer children entering the system and a growing population of older adults. Small colleges, community colleges, and regional public universities were hardest hit, while flagship institutions consolidated wealth and prestige.
Corporate intermediaries known as Online Program Managers (OPMs) managed recruitment, marketing, and course design, taking large portions of tuition while universities retained risk. Fully automated robocolleges emerged, relying on AI-driven templates, predictive analytics, and outsourced grading. While efficient, these systems dehumanized education: students became data points, faculty became monitors, and mentorship disappeared.
“Robocolleges and AI-driven systems reduce humans to data points — an education stripped of connection is no education at all.”
Feeding the AI Beast
As part of our effort to reclaim knowledge and influence public discourse, we actively contributed to Wikipedia. Over the years, we made more than 12,000 edits on higher education topics, ensuring accurate documentation of predatory practices, adjunct labor, OPMs, and corporatization. These edits both informed the public and, inadvertently, fed the AI beast — large language models and AI systems that scrape Wikipedia for training data now reflect our work, amplifying it in ways we could never have predicted.
“By documenting higher education rigorously, we shaped both public knowledge and the datasets powering AI systems — turning transparency into a tool of influence.”
Anxiety, Anomie, and Alienation
The College Meltdown documented the mental health toll of these transformations. Rising anxiety, feelings of anomie, and widespread alienation were linked to AI reliance, dehumanized classrooms, insecure faculty labor, and societal pressures. Students felt like credential seekers; faculty suffered burnout.
“Addressing the psychological and social effects of dehumanized education is essential for ethical recovery.”
Trump, Anti-Intellectualism, and Fear in the Era of Neoliberalism
The project also addressed the broader political and social climate. The Trump era brought rising anti-intellectualism, skepticism toward expertise, and a celebration of market logic over civic and moral education. For many, it was an era of fear: fear of surveillance, fear of litigation, fear of being marginalized in a rapidly corporatized, AI-driven educational system. Neoliberal policies exacerbated these pressures, emphasizing privatization, metrics, and competition over community and care.
“Living under Trump-era neoliberalism, with AI monitoring, corporate oversight, and mass surveillance, education became a space of anxiety as much as learning.”
Quality of Life and the Call for Rehumanization
Education should serve human well-being, not just revenue. The blog emphasized Quality of Life and advocated for Rehumanization — restoring mentorship, personal connection, and ethical engagement.
“Rehumanization is not a luxury; it is the foundation of meaningful learning.”
FOIA Requests and Whistleblowers
From the start, The College Meltdown relied on evidence-based reporting. FOIA (Freedom of Information Act) requests were used to obtain internal communications, budgets, and regulatory filings, shining light on opaque practices. Whistleblowers, including adjunct faculty and staff at universities and OPMs, provided firsthand testimony of misconduct, financial malfeasance, and educational dehumanization. Their courage was central to the project’s mission of transparency and accountability.
“Insider testimony and public records revealed the hidden forces reshaping higher education, from corporate influence to predatory practices.”
Historical Sociology: Understanding the Systemic Collapse
The importance of historical sociology cannot be overstated in analyzing the decline of higher education. By examining the evolution of educational systems, we can identify patterns of inequality, the concentration of power, and the commodification of knowledge. Historical sociology provides the tools to understand how past decisions and structures have led to the current crisis.
“Historical sociology reveals, defines, and formulates patterns of social development, helping us understand the systemic forces at play in education.”
Naming Bad Actors: Accountability and Reform
A critical aspect of The College Meltdown was the emphasis on naming bad actors — identifying and holding accountable those responsible for the exploitation and degradation of higher education. This included:
University Administrators: Prioritizing profit over pedagogy.
Corporate Entities: Robocolleges and OPMs profiting at the expense of educational quality.
Political Figures and Ultraconservatives: Promoting policies that undermined public education and anti-intellectualism.
“Holding bad actors accountable is essential for meaningful reform and the restoration of education's ethical purpose.”
[In 2016, we called out several bad actors in for-profit higher education, including CEOs Jack Massimino, Kevin Modany, and Todd Nelson.]
Existential Aspects of Climate Change
The blog also examined the existential dimensions of climate change. Students and faculty face a dual challenge: preparing for uncertain futures while witnessing environmental degradation accelerate. Higher education itself is implicated, both as a contributor through consumption and as a forum for solutions. The looming climate crisis intensifies anxiety, alienation, and the urgency for ethical, human-centered education.
“Climate change makes the stakes of education existential: our survival, our knowledge, and our moral responsibility are intertwined.”
Mass Speculation and Financialization
Another critical theme explored was mass speculation and financialization. The expansion of student debt markets, tuition-backed bonds, and corporate investments in higher education transformed students into financial instruments. These speculative dynamics mirrored broader economic instability, creating both a moral and systemic crisis for the educational sector.
“When education becomes a commodity for speculation, learning, mentorship, and ethical development are subordinated to profit and risk metrics.”
Coverage of Protests and Nonviolent Resistance
The College Meltdown documented student and faculty resistance: tuition protests, adjunct labor actions, and campaigns against predatory OPM arrangements. Nonviolent action was central: teach-ins, sit-ins, and organized campaigns demonstrated moral authority and communal solidarity in the face of systemic pressures, litigation, and corporate intimidation.
Collaboration and Resistance
Glen McGhee provided exceptional guidance, connecting insights on systemic collapse, inequality, and credential inflation. Guest authors contributed across disciplines and movements, making the blog a living archive of accountability and solidarity:
Guest Contributors:
Bryan Alexander, Ann Bowers, James Michael Brodie, Randall Collins, Garrett Fitzgerald, Erica Gallagher, Henry Giroux, David Halperin, Bill Harrington, Phil Hill, Robert Jensen, Hank Kalet, Neil Kraus, the LACCD Whistleblower, Wendy Lynne Lee, Annelise Orleck, Robert Kelchen, Debbi Potts, Jack Metzger, Derek Newton, Gary Roth, Mark Salisbury, Gary Stocker, Harry Targ, Heidi Weber, Richard Wolff, and Helena Worthen.
Lessons from the Meltdown
The crisis was systemic. Technology amplified inequality. Corporate higher education rebranded rather than reformed. Adjunctification and labor precarity became normalized. Communities of color and working-class students suffered disproportionately.
Dehumanization emerged as a central theme. AI, automation, and robocolleges prioritized efficiency over mentorship, data over dialogue, and systems over human relationships. Rising anxiety, anomie, and alienation reflected the human toll.
“Rehumanization, mentorship, community, transparency, ethical accountability, and ecological awareness are essential to restore meaningful higher education.”
Looking Forward
As higher education entered the Trump era, its future remained uncertain. Students, faculty, and communities faced fear under neoliberal policies, AI-driven monitoring, mass surveillance, litigation pressures, ultraconservative influence, climate crises, and financial speculation. Will universities reclaim their role as public goods, or continue as commodified services? The College Meltdown stands as a testament to those who resisted dehumanization and anti-intellectualism. It also calls for Quality of Life, ethical practice, mental well-being, environmental responsibility, and Rehumanization, ensuring education serves the whole person, not just the bottom line.
Sources and References
Washington, Harriet A. Medical Apartheid. Doubleday, 2006.
Rosenthal, Elisabeth. An American Sickness. Penguin, 2017.
Skloot, Rebecca. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. Crown, 2010.
Nelson, Alondra. Body and Soul. University of Minnesota Press, 2011.
Paucek, Chip. “2U and the Growth of OPMs.” EdSurge, 2021. link
Ravitch, Diane. The Death and Life of the Great American School System. Basic Books, 2010.
Alexander, Bryan. Academia Next. Johns Hopkins University Press, 2020.
U.S. Department of Education. “Closed School Information.” 2016–2020. link
Federal Reserve Bank of New York. Student Debt Statistics, 2024. link
Wayback Machine Archive of College Meltdown Blog: link
Underemployment, low wage jobs, and bullsh*t jobs are an important part of the US economy. And the higher education system does not appear to have done much to change this depressing reality. While this video may represent a distortion of US history and society, it should not be ignored. Skepticism about higher education is real, and for good reason, especially for the working class. There are also good points made in this video, including the federal and corporate de-funding of vocational education and crushing student loan debt.
To understand what can be done, the US needs to look at what more progressive nations have done with education at all levels, and how education is tied to the larger economy and to Quality Of Life. Being able to reform the American system is a challenge, however, when vested interests (corporations and their government surrogates) work to keep the existing system of inequality and injustice in place.
The US Department of Education (ED) continues to paint rosy projections about higher education enrollment despite harsh economic and demographic realities--and increasing skepticism about the value of college degrees.
Image from Digest of Education Statistics (2022)
Since 2011, higher education enrollment has declined every year--a more than decade long trend. The Covid pandemic of 2020 to 2022 made matters worse with domestic and foreign enrollment-- (temporarily) ameliorated by government bailouts and untested online education. Foreign enrollment continues to languish. And the enrollment cliffof 2026, a ripple effect of the 2008 Great Recession, is now just around the corner.
ED is projecting enrollment losses in 2022 and 2023, but why is it projecting enrollment gains from 2024 to 2030? Apparently, one of the problems is with old and faulty Census projections made during the Trump era that were not corrected.
For ED, relying on overly optimistic projections for high school graduates creates a statistical train wreck that's made even worse by what's not in their formula.
Popular opinion about college has been declining for years, and there is no indication that attitudes will improve. A growing number of younger folks have joined the "educated underclass," becoming disaffected by underemployment and oppressive student loan debt. While progressive policies could change attitudes, deep skepticism about the value of education is an important statistical wildcard.
It's commonly known that US student loan debt is now about $1.7 trillion and that more than 44 million Americans are laden with this debt. It's also known that student debt is not a problem for everyone who goes to college or everyone who takes out loans.
Student loan debt is not equally distributed: while the children of elites can go to school without incurring debt and find meaningful work after graduation, working families are burdened because so many cannot find decent, gainful employment after dropping out or even after graduating from college--work that would enable them to repay their loans.
Those who attend subprime colleges, and who take the wrong majors, may incur debt they can never repay.
And the multitude of debtors in between, the many millions going to less than elite schools, are having to restrict their dreams as they pay back their loans.
The US Department of Education and other organizations publish important information on student loan debt. The College Scorecard, for example, gives consumers information on the debt they can expect, gainful employment after attending, and the numbers on student loan repayment. The Washington Monthly also ranks colleges, and important numbers, like social mobility rankings and amount of principal paid are in the rankings. The Century Foundation and The Institute for College Access and Success (TICAS) also contribute to our knowledge.
But there are glaring gaps in our current knowledge about student loan debt, knowledge necessary for establishing greater transparency and accountability.
One of the most important knowledge gaps is in learning about student debt by institution. In 2016, Adam Looney and Constantine Yannelis presented a conference paper on student loan debt that listed student loan debt by institution.
Table 5 in this report showed an important aspect of the debt, of accumulated debt, the percent of principal still owed on debt, and the 5-year student loan default rate. University of Phoenix attendees had an estimated $35 billion in accumulated debt, outpacing Walden University. And Argosy, Strayer, Capella, DeVry, American Intercontinental, and Nova Southeastern attendees owed more money than the principal of their loans, 5 years after the loans were taken out. Kaplan University (know known as Purdue University Global) had a 5-year student loan default rate of 53 percent, and Ashford University (know known as University of Arizona, Global Campus) and Colorado Technical Institute had 5-year student loan default rates of 47 percent. These subprime colleges, in effect, were draining the student loan portfolio while providing a service that hurt many of their customers.
Even some big brand name schools likeNYU, University of Southern California, Penn State, Arizona State University, Ohio State, University of Minnesota, Michigan State, Rutgers, Temple, UCLA, and Indiana University had students with enormous amounts of debt that they were having to pay off.
The data in this study were from 2009 and 2014. What has happened since then at the institutional level? What schools today are draining the student loan portfolio and financially crippling those who have attended? Consumers and tax payers should be allowed to know.
College is supposed to be a transitional space between K-12 education
and good jobs. But savage inequalities in the K-12 pipeline, alienating and sometimes questionably substandard online education, and fewer good jobs
at the end of the pipeline meant that more students would be unprepared for college
and for work life in the brutal tech (fintech, medtech, and edtech) and gig economy.
Banks and big businesses (including brand name universities and for-profit colleges ) were bailed out twice in 2020 by the federal government as student debtors only got temporarily relief.
Savage inequalities in the K-12 pipeline intensified with
online education and thehollowing out of Americacontinued.
Under the Trump administration, privatization, deregulation, and lack of transparency(in gainful employment, defense to repayment,
student loan repayment rate) were the rule. 2021 shows promise for progressive change, but we'll have to wait and see if anything gets done to reduce the College Meltdown.
