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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Forgetting Henry George

As American colleges and universities spiral deeper into debt, corporatization, and social irrelevance, it is worth asking not just what ideas dominate the landscape—but what ideas have been buried, neglected, or deliberately forgotten. Among the most significant casualties in our intellectual amnesia is Georgist economics, a once-influential school of thought that offered a radical, yet practical, alternative to both capitalism’s excesses and socialism’s centralization. And in today’s extractive academic economy—what Devarian Baldwin calls the “UniverCity”—its insights are more relevant than ever.

The Ghost of Henry George

Henry George, a 19th-century American political economist, is best known for his seminal work Progress and Poverty (1879), in which he argued that while technological and economic progress increased wealth, it also deepened inequality—primarily because the gains were siphoned off by landowners and monopolists. His solution was deceptively simple: tax the unearned income from land and natural monopolies, and use that revenue to fund public goods and social services.

At one time, George’s ideas inspired political movements, policy debates, and even academic curricula. He was considered a serious rival to Karl Marx and a practical philosopher for American reformers, including the early labor movement. Cities like San Francisco saw brief experiments with land value taxation. But today, outside niche think tanks and the occasional urban planning circle, Georgism is a faint echo, barely audible in the halls of economic departments or public policy schools.

The University and the Land

If we look at contemporary higher education through a Georgist lens, what emerges is a sobering picture. Colleges and universities are not merely neutral grounds for the exchange of ideas—they are massive holders of land, beneficiaries of public subsidies, and agents of displacement. Institutions from NYU to the University of Chicago to Arizona State have used their nonprofit status and real estate portfolios to expand into communities, often gentrifying and pricing out working-class and BIPOC residents.

At the same time, these same institutions profit from a credentialing economy built on a foundation of student loan debt. Over 43 million Americans collectively owe more than $1.6 trillion in federal student loans, an economy of indebtedness that props up tuition-driven institutional budgets while shackling generations of graduates. The very students who attend these universities, often in the hope of upward mobility, find themselves trapped in debt servitude—subsidizing administrative bloat, sports franchises, and real estate empires they will never own.

This is where Devarian Baldwin’s work becomes critical. In In the Shadow of the Ivory Tower, Baldwin exposes how universities have become “anchor institutions,” deeply embedded in the urban fabric—not just through education, but through policing, property development, hospital systems, and labor exploitation. These institutions accumulate wealth not by producing new knowledge, but by extracting rents—social, economic, and literal—from their surroundings.

Baldwin and George, though a century apart, are speaking to the same fundamental economic injustice: wealth flowing upwards through property and privilege, at the expense of the many.

Why Georgism Was Forgotten

So why has Georgism disappeared from mainstream education? The answer lies partly in the success of those it sought to regulate. Landowners and financiers, who stood to lose the most from land value taxation, worked diligently to discredit George’s theories. Neoclassical economics, with its abstract models and marginal utility curves, became the dominant language—obscuring the real-world power dynamics of land and labor.

Universities, especially elite ones, adopted this neoclassical framework, increasingly aligning their interests with those of capital. Philanthropic foundations and corporate donors funded economic departments and think tanks that promoted market fundamentalism. Over time, Georgism—radical yet rooted in common sense—was pushed out of the curriculum.

This forgetting wasn’t accidental. It was ideological.

A Forgotten Game with a Forgotten Message

A striking example of Georgism’s cultural erasure lies in the very board game that has taught generations about capitalism: Monopoly. Originally created in the early 20th century by a woman named Elizabeth Magie, the game was first called The Landlord’s Game and was explicitly designed to illustrate Henry George’s ideas. Magie’s intent was pedagogical—she wanted players to see how land monopolies enriched a few while impoverishing others, and to promote George’s remedy of a single land tax.

But over time, the game was appropriated and rebranded by Parker Brothers and later Hasbro, stripped of its Georgist message and recast as a celebration of ruthless accumulation. What began as a cautionary tale about inequality became a glorification of it—a metaphor for how George’s ideas were not just buried but inverted.

In that sense, Monopoly is the perfect symbol for the American university: a system that once had the potential to democratize opportunity but now functions as a machine for privatizing wealth and socializing risk, leaving students and communities to pick up the tab.

What Higher Education Could Learn—and Teach

If the goal of higher education is to educate an informed, critical citizenry, then forgetting Georgist economics is not just an intellectual oversight—it’s a moral failure. Henry George offered a vision of society where value created by the community is returned to the community. In the age of student debt, university land grabs, and deepening inequality, this vision is urgently needed.

Imagine a higher education system where public revenue from land values funds debt-free college. Imagine a world where students no longer mortgage their futures for degrees whose value is increasingly uncertain. Imagine colleges not as engines of gentrification but as stewards of local wealth, investing in community-owned housing and cooperatives. Imagine students learning about economics not just as math problems, but as moral questions about justice, equity, and the public good.

Devarian Baldwin’s scholarship, much like George’s, invites us to interrogate power structures and imagine alternatives. It’s time for a revival of that imagination.

Relearning the Unlearned

Reclaiming Georgist economics in the academy would not be a return to some golden past, but a reckoning with the present. It would mean confronting the rentier logic at the heart of higher education—and the debt-based financing that sustains it—and reorienting our institutions toward justice and common prosperity.

In a moment when so much of American higher ed is collapsing under its own contradictions, perhaps what’s needed is not another billion-dollar endowment or ed-tech unicorn, but an idea long buried: that land—and learning—should belong to the people.

For the Higher Education Inquirer, this is part of an ongoing inquiry into the pasts we forget, the futures we imagine, and the power structures that shape both. 

Future Scenarios: A Post-College America (Glen McGhee)

By 2035, the traditional American college system may be a relic of the past. A variety of forces—economic, technological, demographic, and cultural—are converging to transform the landscape of higher learning. Grounded in Papenhausen's cyclical model of institutional change, current data and trends suggest a plausible future in which college campuses no longer serve as the central hubs of postsecondary education. Instead, a more fragmented, skills-based, and economically integrated system may rise in its place.

Since 2010, college enrollment in the U.S. has declined by 8.5%, with more than a million fewer students than before the COVID-19 pandemic. Over 80 colleges have closed or merged since 2020, and many experts forecast a sharp acceleration in closures, especially as the so-called “demographic cliff” reduces the pool of traditional-age college students. The Federal Reserve Bank of Philadelphia projects a potential 142% increase in annual college closures by the end of the decade.

This institutional unraveling is not solely demographic. Federal disinvestment in research and financial aid, rising tuition (up more than 1,500% since the late 1970s), and increasing underemployment among recent graduates are undermining the perceived and actual value of a college degree. Emerging technologies, particularly AI, are rapidly changing the ways people learn and the skills employers seek. Meanwhile, the proliferation of fake degrees and credential fraud further erodes trust in conventional academic institutions.

In response to these destabilizing trends, four future scenarios offer possible replacements for the traditional college system. Each reflects different combinations of technological advancement, labor market shifts, and institutional evolution.

The Corporate Academy Landscape envisions a future in which large companies like Google, Amazon, and IBM take the lead in educating the workforce. Building on existing certificate programs, these corporations establish their own academies, offering industry-aligned training and credentials. Apprenticeships and on-the-job learning become the primary paths to employment, with digital badges and blockchain-secured micro-credentials replacing degrees. Corporate campuses cluster in major urban centers, while rural areas develop niche training programs related to local industries such as agriculture and renewable energy.

In The Distributed Learning Networks scenario, education becomes fully decentralized. Instead of enrolling in a single institution, learners access personalized instruction through AI-powered platforms, community-based workshops, and online mentorships. Local libraries, maker spaces, and co-working hubs evolve into core educational environments. Learning is assessed through portfolios and real-world projects rather than grades or standardized exams. Regional expertise clusters develop organically, especially in smaller cities and towns with existing community infrastructure.

The Guild Renaissance looks to the past to shape the future. Modeled on pre-industrial apprenticeship systems, professional guilds re-emerge as gatekeepers of career development. These organizations handle training, credentialing, and job placement in sectors such as healthcare, construction, technology, and the arts. Hierarchical systems guide individuals from novice to expert, and regional economies specialize around guild-supported industries. Employment becomes tightly integrated with ongoing learning, minimizing the traditional gap between school and work.

Finally, The Hybrid Workplace University scenario grows out of the shift to remote and hybrid work. With more than one-third of workers expected to remain partially remote, workplaces themselves become learning environments. Education is embedded in professional workflows through VR training, modular courses, and flexible scheduling. As access to learning becomes geographically unrestricted, rural and underpopulated areas may see renewed vitality as remote workers seek lower-cost, higher-quality living environments.

Despite their differences, these scenarios share several transformational themes. Economically, resources formerly directed toward campus infrastructure are redirected toward skills training, research hubs, and community development. Culturally, the notion of lifelong learning becomes normalized, and credentials become more transparent, practical, and verifiable. Socially, traditional notions of campus life give way to professional and civic identity tied to industry specialization or community engagement.

The evolution of quality assurance is also noteworthy. Traditional accreditation may give way to employer-driven standards, market-based performance indicators, and digital verification technologies. Blockchain and competency-based evaluations offer more direct and trustworthy assessments of ability and readiness for employment.

Geographically, these changes will reshape communities in different ways. Former college towns must navigate economic transitions, potentially reinventing themselves as hubs for innovation or remote work. Urban areas may thrive as centers of corporate education and research. Rural regions may find new purpose through specialized training programs aligned with local resources and culture.

If these trends continue, the benefits could be substantial: reduced student debt, more direct paths to employment, faster innovation, and greater regional economic diversity. But challenges remain. The loss of traditional university research infrastructure may hinder long-term scientific progress. Access to elite training may increasingly depend on corporate affiliation, potentially limiting social mobility and excluding those without early access to professional networks. The liberal arts and humanities—once central to American higher education—may struggle to find footing in this new paradigm.

In the broad view, these emerging models reflect a shift away from institutional prestige and toward demonstrable competence. The change is not only educational but societal, redefining what it means to learn, to work, and to belong. Whether this transformation leads to a more inclusive and efficient system or deepens existing inequities will depend on how these new models are regulated, supported, and adapted to public needs.

By 2035, the American educational system may no longer be anchored to age-segregated campuses and debt-financed degrees. Instead, it may revolve around pragmatic, lifelong pathways—deeply integrated with the labor market, shaped by regional strengths, and responsive to continuous technological change.

Sources:

1. National Student Clearinghouse Research Center

2. U.S. Department of Education

3. Federal Reserve Bank of Philadelphia
   4–5. National Center for Education Statistics
   6–9. Bureau of Labor Statistics, Consumer Price Index
   10–11. Federal Reserve Bank of New York
   12–13. McKinsey & Co., World Economic Forum
   14–16. U.S. Department of Justice, Accrediting Agencies
   17–19. Company Reports (Google, IBM, Amazon, Apple)
   20–21. U.S. Department of Labor
   22–24. Credential Engine, World Bank, Blockchain in Education Conference

4. Burning Glass Institute
   26–29. EdTech Reports, OECD, Pew Research Center
   30–31. National Apprenticeship Survey
   32–34. Gallup, Stanford Remote Work Project

5. UNESCO Blockchain for Education Report

Harvard Faculty Union Threatens Resistance to Any Deal with Trump Administration

Faculty at Harvard University are warning that they will "strongly oppose" any agreement the university might strike with the Trump administration regarding ongoing threats to federal funding and alleged civil rights violations. The Harvard chapter of the American Association of University Professors (AAUP), representing more than 300 faculty members, issued the warning amid secretive negotiations between Harvard leadership and federal officials.

In recent months, the Trump administration has escalated efforts to discipline elite universities, accusing Harvard of failing to protect Jewish students and violating Title VI of the Civil Rights Act. The Department of Education has threatened to withhold all federal funding from the university, a move that could disrupt billions of dollars in research and student aid. While Harvard has filed suit to block the funding cuts, concerns have emerged that university leaders may quietly negotiate a settlement to avoid further political retaliation.

Harvard faculty say they were not consulted about the negotiations and reject any deal that would compromise academic freedom, institutional autonomy, or faculty governance. Kirsten Weld, president of the AAUP chapter, told the Boston Globe that “the red line of academic freedom… has already been crossed” if administrators are making decisions without full faculty participation. Professor of Classics Richard Thomas emphasized that any arrangement that gives the government influence over curriculum, hiring, or research is unacceptable, stating, “I expect that the AAUP and the faculty will react very strongly against any sort of deal.”

The AAUP’s position is backed by a recent survey reported by The Harvard Crimson, showing that 71 percent of responding faculty oppose any agreement with the Trump administration, while 98 percent support Harvard’s legal efforts to block the federal funding freeze. The faculty response reflects not only opposition to political interference, but also frustration with what they see as a lack of transparency from Harvard’s top leadership.

The university's conflict with the federal government began after the administration accused Harvard and other elite schools of fostering environments hostile to Jewish students, citing demonstrations and social media posts in the wake of the Israel-Gaza conflict. Critics argue that these investigations are politically motivated and designed to suppress speech critical of U.S. foreign policy or Israeli actions. By threatening to cut off Title IV funds and research grants, the administration is leveraging unprecedented financial pressure on higher education institutions.

Harvard’s AAUP chapter, like others formed in recent years, lacks formal collective bargaining rights under U.S. labor law. But its members are prepared to organize using petitions, public pressure, and other means of faculty protest. As universities become central targets in broader culture wars, the line between political influence and academic control continues to blur. Faculty organizers view this moment as a test case not only for Harvard’s values, but for the future of academic freedom across the country.

For the Higher Education Inquirer, which has long stood in support of labor rights and academic self-governance, this case highlights the growing need for faculty and student workers to assert their roles in shaping institutional responses to political coercion. Whether Harvard’s leadership will listen to its faculty remains to be seen. But the message from the AAUP is clear: any backroom deal with the federal government that sacrifices core academic principles will face fierce and public opposition.

Sources
The Boston Globe, July 6, 2025: “Harvard professor union will ‘strongly’ oppose any deal between school and Trump, members say”
The Harvard Crimson, July 2025: “Faculty Oppose Deal With Trump Administration, Survey Finds”
The Washington Post, April 21, 2025: “Harvard sues the Trump administration in escalating confrontation”
Politico, April 17, 2025: “The Ivy League resistance is just getting started”

Harvard Removes 800 Graduate Students From Union, Citing Employment Status

Harvard University has removed roughly 800 graduate students from the Harvard Graduate Students Union–United Auto Workers (HGSU-UAW), asserting that they are not employees and therefore not entitled to union representation. The move has drawn criticism from labor advocates and student organizers and raises broader questions about the future of graduate labor rights in U.S. higher education.

According to The Harvard Crimson, the affected students receive research-based stipends but do not hold formal teaching or administrative appointments. In recent communications to faculty and the union, Harvard administrators stated that these students “are not employees under the National Labor Relations Act and do not have the right to unionize.” The university said that its position is based on recent rulings by the National Labor Relations Board (NLRB), including decisions involving similar cases at MIT and Brown University.

Harvard’s message to the union and faculty further claimed that “Harvard has never agreed that non-employees should be included in the unit.” This interpretation removes a substantial portion—approximately 15 percent—of the union’s former membership, weakening its bargaining position just as the union’s initial contract expired at the end of the 2025 fiscal year.

Union leaders have pushed back. Sara V. Speller, president of the HGSU-UAW, told The Crimson that the union is “working closely with the UAW and exploring our options.” The union has previously challenged Harvard’s stance in arbitration and won a favorable ruling related to the inclusion of research-focused psychology graduate students, though that case is now under federal review.

Harvard’s reclassification is not occurring in isolation. It comes in the context of ongoing efforts by elite universities to limit the reach of graduate student unions by drawing a line between academic training and paid labor. While the 2016 Columbia decision by the NLRB affirmed that graduate students at private universities could be classified as employees, recent decisions under a changing board composition have opened the door for reinterpretation. Harvard's legal strategy appears aligned with these more conservative rulings.

The Higher Education Inquirer has long supported the labor rights of contingent faculty, staff, and student workers, including graduate students whose research and teaching responsibilities serve as critical infrastructure in the academic enterprise. The removal of 800 graduate students from union protections reflects a broader pattern of university administrations attempting to limit collective bargaining power and redefine the boundaries of academic labor.

The implications of Harvard’s decision go beyond Cambridge. As other universities monitor the fallout, they may follow suit, especially as labor board interpretations shift with the political winds in Washington. In this climate, labor unions representing graduate students, adjunct faculty, and staff will need to navigate an increasingly complex terrain—one where administrative classification may determine who gets a voice at the bargaining table.

Graduate students affected by the reclassification may continue receiving stipends and conducting research, but they will no longer have access to grievance procedures, union-led negotiations, or other protections afforded to employees. Those who also serve as teaching fellows or hold research assistantships tied to grants will retain their union eligibility—for now.

For many observers, this case underscores the fragility of labor rights in higher education. It also reveals the persistent tension between the educational missions universities claim to uphold and the employment realities that sustain their operations. As Harvard redefines its labor boundaries, the national debate about who counts as a worker in academia grows sharper—and more urgent.

Graduate Education is Broken

Graduate education in the United States—especially doctoral education—is fundamentally broken. Sold as a noble pursuit of truth and a gateway to the ivory tower, the Ph.D. has become, for many, a pipeline into debt, precarious employment, and psychological distress. Despite the lofty ideals marketed by universities and celebrated in faculty speeches, the numbers and lived experiences of graduates tell a darker, more sobering story.

According to Leaving Academia by Christopher L. Caterine, only 7 percent of all doctoral students will become tenure-track professors. That statistic, quietly acknowledged in graduate lounges and whispered among disillusioned postdocs, is not an anomaly. It is the grim baseline. The academic system continues to lure thousands into graduate programs every year, fully aware that 93 percent of them will not land the career they were explicitly or implicitly promised.

In his 2015 book The Graduate School Mess, Columbia University professor Leonard Cassuto calls out the structural failures of the Ph.D. pipeline—citing inadequate career preparation, mentorship dysfunction, and the willful neglect of graduate outcomes. Graduate programs serve the needs of faculty and institutions far more than they serve the students themselves. The labor of graduate students powers undergraduate education and research output, but their futures are sacrificed to the prestige economy of the university.

Karen Kelsky, in her influential guide The Professor Is In, goes even further. Drawing on years of advising graduate students and job seekers, she pulls no punches: the academic job market is brutal, and the culture within graduate school is often toxic—especially for women, people of color, and those without financial safety nets. Kelsky's consulting business exists because so many Ph.D.s are desperate to claw their way out of a system that promised them intellectual fulfillment and delivered exploitation instead.

Making matters worse is the massive oversupply of labor, which has been quietly sustained by an influx of international students. Many of the remaining full-time academic positions—not to mention a growing number of graduate student slots—are held by international labor. These students and scholars often enter the system under the false assumption that hard work and merit will lead to a stable career in academia. In reality, their presence—exploited under the banner of "global academic exchange"—exacerbates the labor surplus, keeping wages low and competition high. It’s not their fault—it’s the system’s design.

Enter Cheeky Scientist, a consulting service built to help Ph.D.s pivot into industry. What was once called "alt-ac" (alternative academic) is now, for most, the main road out. If academia won’t hire you, the logic goes, rebrand yourself for tech, pharma, or finance. Entire cottage industries now exist to rescue doctoral graduates from the wreckage of their academic dreams.

Beyond job prospects lies another ignored reality: financial instability. Emily Roberts, through her platform Personal Finance for Ph.D.s, has helped shine a light on the dire economic situation many doctoral students face. Stipends often fail to meet basic living expenses, especially in cities like New York, Boston, or San Francisco. Few programs offer retirement contributions or basic financial literacy. The result? Many Ph.D.s graduate not just without a job, but with significant debt—especially those who funded earlier education with loans or had to self-finance part of their graduate training.

Roberts’ work underscores that financial precarity begins in the first year of grad school. Her interviews with graduate students reveal the systemic neglect: many rely on food pantries, delay medical care, or take on secret gig work to survive—while their advisors remain oblivious or indifferent.

What we have, then, is a system that overproduces credentials, underprepares people for life outside the academy, and clings to a 20th-century fantasy of academic meritocracy. Doctoral education is not just out of step with the job market—it is actively harmful in many cases.

Meanwhile, universities continue to benefit. The intellectual labor of graduate students and international scholars props up research labs, lecture halls, and college rankings. They are essential, yet disposable. Institutions show little incentive to reduce Ph.D. admissions or offer honest appraisals of job prospects. Why would they? The system works—for them.

Graduate education isn’t merely broken. It’s functioning exactly as designed—for the benefit of the few, at the expense of the many.

It is time for a reckoning.

The Professor is In, 2nd Edition (Karen Kelsky)

Help The Second Edition Come Out This Fall!

By Karen Kelsky | July 1, 2025

PLEASE READ: 2nd Edition Book News and Promotion

I just got word that the second edition of The Professor Is In book – orig. planned for September – might be *delayed*!

It can’t ship out until we sell the extra inventory of the 1st edition that is still on hand at Amazon, Random House, and other sellers (about 2000 copies).

I REALLY want the second edition to come out Fall 2025 in time for its 10th anniversary, so I’m running a special promotion!

If you buy 100 (new) copies of the first edition (ie, the one that’s on sale now at Amazon, Random House, etc.) I will do a FREE 1 hour virtual talk for your department or program on any aspect of the academic or post-academic job search, grant writing, book proposals, or any other topic in my repertoire.

If you buy 200 new copies, I’ll do a full 1.5 hour virtual talk!

//Rest assured, the actual job search advice content is virtually unchanged between the two editions! So the first edition remains 100% effective for anyone seeking an academic job in 2025. (For reference, the big difference in the second ed., is in the wider contextualization of this advice – deteriorating conditions of academic labor, attacks on tenure and DEI, considerations for marginalized job seekers around issues of disability, gay and trans identity, BIPOC identity, and mental illness and neurodivergency, making the decision to leave, and above all, prioritizing your personal health and well-being). The one chapter of advice that has been entirely rewritten is the one on “What to Wear”, and I’m happy to send along pdfs of that chapter to anyone who participates in this promotion and wants the updated fashion advice!//

But wait, there’s more! 🙂

If you buy 50 books, I will do a 30 minute Q & A with your class or program.

If you buy 25, I’ll give you a discounted rate for a virtual or in person talk.

And if you buy 1 to 10 copies, send me the receipt (at gettenure@gmail.com) and I’ll put you in a drawing for a free suite of services – editing your job or grant documents, doing a zoom consultation with me, etc. – worth $500! You will get as many entries as copies you buy, up to 10.

Of course, if you’re a Dean or Provost and want to buy 1000+ copies for all the grad students in your college … well, DM me and let’s talk! I’d be glad to reciprocate in some big way that benefits your program.

Thanks, and please share widely! I hope together we can get this done!

Filed Under: Academic Job Search, Alt-University Critique, Marginalized Voices, Mental Health and Academia, Post-Ac Job Search

Selling Armageddon

In an age defined by manufactured crises, weaponized ignorance, and the commodification of fear, a disturbing coalition has emerged—one that profits not from progress, but from collapse. This coalition spans billionaires and bomb makers, Ivy League technocrats and evangelical foot soldiers, data miners and doomsday preachers. They aren't just predicting the end of the world. They're selling it.

The title Selling Armageddon captures a disturbing trend within American society—and particularly within the intersection of higher education, technology, and political ideology—where fear, fatalism, and anti-intellectualism have become not just cultural phenomena but profit centers.

The Profiteers of the Apocalypse

Billionaire venture capitalist Peter Thiel, a vocal critic of democracy and champion of techno-libertarianism, is emblematic of this ethos. Thiel's investments in surveillance, biotech, and defense contractors like Palantir are not just financial bets—they are ideological declarations. He has publicly said that he no longer believes freedom and democracy are compatible. Instead, Thiel supports strongmen, deregulated markets, and technological sovereignty for elites.

Thiel has also funneled money into right-wing institutions and figures that sow distrust in public institutions, especially higher education. Simultaneously, he and other members of the "techno-elite" invest in private learning incubators, surveillance infrastructure, and seasteading projects that imagine life after democracy—or after the planet.

These billionaires are preparing for Armageddon not by preventing it, but by monetizing it: funding bunkers in New Zealand, buying private islands, or investing in orbital real estate. As The Guardian once asked, “What happens when the people who make our futures no longer believe in the future?”

Enter Elon Musk, who brings to the Armageddon marketplace a particularly seductive brand of techno-messianism. Musk has built an empire not just on electric cars and space rockets, but on a narrative that humanity is doomed unless it follows his vision: Mars colonization, AI supremacy, and deregulated everything. His companies depend on government contracts, foreign labor, non-unionized workplaces, and public subsidies—all while he rails against the very institutions that enabled his rise.

Musk’s appeal lies in his ability to market collapse as innovation. Colonizing Mars is framed not as escapism for the rich, but as salvation for the species. Neuralink’s experiments on animals and humans are marketed as “progress.” Buying and gutting Twitter—now X—is portrayed as “free speech absolutism,” even as it becomes a haven for far-right propaganda and anti-intellectual conspiracy theories. Musk does not offer solutions for Earth. He sells a lifeboat for elites—and a live stream of the ship sinking for the rest.

The War on Higher Education: Enter Charlie Kirk

Charlie Kirk, founder of Turning Point USA, is one of the most visible faces of the new anti-intellectual populism. Kirk, who has no college degree himself, built a political empire by demonizing higher education and promoting a gospel of grievance. Funded in part by the same billionaire class that bankrolls tech libertarians like Thiel and lionizes Elon Musk, Kirk has launched aggressive campaigns to surveil, blacklist, and harass professors and students who challenge conservative orthodoxy.

His Turning Point “Professor Watchlist” is not just an attack on individuals—it is an assault on the very notion of critical inquiry. In Kirk’s universe, universities are not flawed institutions to be reformed but radical breeding grounds to be destroyed. He promotes a worldview in which faith is pure, facts are suspect, and feelings of persecution are monetized.

While Kirk claims to be fighting “Marxism” and “wokeness,” what he is actually selling is obedience—particularly to corporate power, Christian nationalism, and militarized borders. His audience is taught that the future is a war, and they must choose sides: us vs. them, believers vs. traitors, patriots vs. professors.

Naomi Klein and the Shock Doctrine of Now

Naomi Klein’s work, especially The Shock Doctrine, offers a crucial lens for understanding how crises—real or manufactured—are used to erode public institutions and consolidate wealth. The COVID-19 pandemic, mass shootings, climate catastrophes, and political chaos have each served as moments of opportunity for privatizers, war profiteers, and ideological extremists.

In her more recent writings, Klein explores how conspiracy culture and fascist-adjacent movements have merged with wellness grifts and anti-science ideologies to create a new reactionary consumer base. Higher education has been both target and tool in this ecosystem—either accused of being too “woke,” or silently complicit in the march toward corporate authoritarianism.

Musk, like Thiel and Kirk, has leveraged this blend of libertarianism and grievance politics—tapping into populist rage while making his wealth on the back of public resources. Together, they represent a new ruling class that doesn’t just tolerate ignorance—they capitalize on it.

“Freedom Cities”: Privatized Utopia, Public Disaster

A key component of the Armageddon economy is the “Freedom City” project—a concept championed by Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, and now embraced by Trump Republicans. On the surface, these cities promise deregulation, innovation, and technological advancement. But beneath the buzzwords is a vision of society in which public governance is replaced by corporate fiefdoms.

In Freedom Cities, there are no public universities—only credential mills optimized for employer branding. There are no town halls—only shareholder meetings. Laws are written by venture capitalists, not legislatures. These cities are not democratic experiments—they are controlled environments designed to ensure elite survival and labor discipline. Education is not about knowledge; it’s about code bootcamps, ideological training, and loyalty to corporate overlords.

Some Freedom City backers go so far as to frame these cities as escapes from the “decay” of American democracy. In this vision, the United States itself becomes disposable—its lands and labor extracted, its public institutions hollowed out, its higher education system replaced with behavioral conditioning and biometric surveillance.

Freedom Cities are the spatial manifestation of fatalistic capitalism—a place to survive the collapse that capitalism itself caused.

The Israel Factor

Nowhere is this more visible than in the militarization of university discourse around Israel and Palestine. Pro-Israel lobbying groups, sometimes in collaboration with groups like Turning Point USA and tech influencers on X, have used massive funding and public pressure to silence academic dissent, criminalize protest, and reshape curricula. Many elite universities have openly collaborated with defense contractors, some of whom profit from technologies tested on Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank.

This is not merely about Israel—it is about the normalization of permanent war as a condition of life. It is about desensitizing the public to state violence, turning morality into a partisan debate, and monetizing surveillance and repression. These policies, developed in the name of “security,” are later imported back into the United States—on campuses, in classrooms, and across the border.

Selling the End of Knowledge

The university was once imagined as a refuge from the chaos of the world—a place to build better futures. But in this dystopian moment, education is being stripped for parts. Faculty are adjunctified and silenced. Student debt is an albatross. Basic humanities departments are being gutted, while programs in cybersecurity, defense studies, and corporate law are growing.

We are educating people to manage collapse, not prevent it.

Instead of cultivating critical thinkers, institutions churn out bureaucrats for empire and engineers for oligarchs. The architects of Armageddon do not fear higher education—they co-opt it, fund it, rebrand it, and turn it against its original purpose.

Preventing Self-Fulfilling Prophecies

To resist the forces selling Armageddon, we must reclaim higher education as a public good—one grounded in ethics, truth-seeking, and planetary survival. We must refuse the logic of fatalism and reject the grifters who profit from despair. And we must name the forces—Peter Thiel, Elon Musk, Charlie Kirk, the boosters of Freedom Cities, defense contractors, and neoliberal university presidents—that see crisis not as a call for solidarity, but as a sales pitch.

Because if we don’t, the end of the world won’t come with fire or flood.
It will come with a branded dome, a loyalty app, biometric gates—and a tuition bill.

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The Higher Education Inquirer is committed to investigative journalism that challenges elite narratives and exposes structural injustices in academia and beyond.

A House Divided...

“A house divided against itself cannot stand.” Abraham Lincoln’s immortal words—delivered at a time of profound crisis—speak volumes to the United States of 2025. We are again a nation splintering at its foundations. Not only is the Trump administration’s 2025 spending bill a cruel redistribution of wealth and opportunity, but it is also a calculated assault on national cohesion. By pitting group against group, and widening already-existing chasms, this legislation weakens the country from within.

It worsens every major divide in American life:

Young and Old
This bill undermines the future of young people by defunding public education, freezing Pell Grant expansion, and dismantling student loan protections. Meanwhile, it offers little to nothing to the aging population—cutting health and housing programs while privatizing services they depend on. Instead of investing in generational cooperation, the bill fuels resentment: older voters blamed for electing regressive leaders, younger generations accused of entitlement. Both groups suffer—but separately.

Rich and Poor
At its core, the bill is a brutal act of class warfare. It strips federal protections and benefits from working-class families while expanding tax loopholes for the wealthy and funding corporate subsidies. The working poor lose access to healthcare, clean air and water, education, and social safety nets. The rich get richer—and more powerful. The wealth gap, already obscene, becomes insurmountable. Billionaires buy colleges, elections, and media narratives while everyday Americans lose homes, degrees, and dignity.

Men and Women
By slashing childcare funding, defunding reproductive healthcare, and threatening Title IX protections, the spending bill deepens the economic and social vulnerabilities of women, especially single mothers and women of color. Meanwhile, men, too, are left in precarious labor markets with fewer public supports and more pressure to conform to toxic models of masculinity peddled by reactionary forces. The bill ignores gender inequality while encouraging cultural backlashes, deepening mistrust between the sexes.

White, Black, and Brown
The racial fault lines of American life are carved even deeper by this legislation. Black and Brown communities, long targets of systemic disinvestment, will face cuts in education, public health, housing, and environmental protections. Latinx families lose protections for immigrant students and face heightened surveillance. Native American communities see treaty responsibilities ignored yet again. White working-class families, while nominally courted by nationalist rhetoric, are left materially worse off—offered culture war instead of clean water and decent jobs.

The Trump budget does not unite Americans; it divides them more efficiently. It weaponizes identity and scarcity—turning natural allies into enemies and stoking civil conflict not with guns but with spreadsheets.

This is not accidental. In a 2022 interview, we warned about the growing possibility of colleges being drawn into “both sides of a Second U.S. Civil War between Christian Fundamentalists and neoliberals.” In such a conflict, we said, “working families will take the largest hit.” That warning now feels prophetic. Colleges are already caught in the ideological crossfire, serving either the nationalist right or the neoliberal consulting class—while student debt and academic labor exploitation grow on both sides.

This bill isn't just a financial document. It's a manifesto for a new Gilded Age, where working people are left to fight one another over crumbs while billionaires hoard the pie.

Higher education, which once promised upward mobility and civic understanding, has been transformed into a marketplace of credentials, surveillance, and extraction. The 2025 Trump bill accelerates this, cutting off pathways to opportunity while protecting the interests of robocolleges, shady lenders, and digital monopolies.

The house is burning. And if we do not find a way to build solidarity across these divisions—young and old, rich and poor, Black and white, men and women—we will fall, not as tribes, but as a nation.

Sources:

• Interview with Dahn Shaulis, College Viability (2022)

• Congressional Budget Office, Trump 2025 Budget Analysis

• National Student Legal Defense Network

• American Council on Education, Pell Grant and Loan Data

• U.S. Department of Education: Title IX and regulatory changes

• Clean Energy for America Coalition

• U.S. Commission on Civil Rights: Education and Tribal Funding Reports

• Higher Education Inquirer investigations on robocolleges, edtech profiteering, and student debt

Layoffs at Stanford, University of Oregon, Michigan State, Vanderbilt University Medical Center, Harvard Kennedy School

In recent weeks, several prominent institutions of higher education—including Stanford University, the University of Oregon, Michigan State University, Vanderbilt University Medical Center, and Harvard Kennedy School—have enacted rounds of layoffs, signaling broader structural challenges in the U.S. academic and healthcare sectors. Despite their elite reputations, substantial endowments, and billions in annual revenue, these institutions are shedding jobs, restructuring departments, and quietly retreating from long-standing commitments to faculty, staff, and students.

The reasons cited vary: declining enrollments in some programs, budget shortfalls, revenue realignment, digital transitions, and post-pandemic financial recalibrations. But the broader narrative is one of institutional austerity and technocratic realignment—driven not by scarcity but by strategic choices that often prioritize financial optimization over community stability.

Stanford University: "Voluntary" Departures and "Organizational Review"

In May 2024, Stanford University initiated what it called a "voluntary separation program" for staff across its libraries and various administrative departments. The move came amid a sweeping “organizational review” led by consultants and senior management. While Stanford did not initially label the departures as layoffs, internal communications revealed pressure on departments to cut personnel costs amid shifting budget priorities. Meanwhile, construction of new capital projects continued, and executive pay remained untouched. Critics see this as part of a Silicon Valley-inspired push toward leaner, more corporate university models.

University of Oregon: Retrenchment and Program Consolidation

The University of Oregon’s recent layoffs hit multiple academic and support units, including information technology, library services, and even academic advising. Faculty members in the College of Arts and Sciences have expressed concern about being asked to do more with fewer resources, especially as administrative spending has not faced equivalent cuts. The administration defended the move as necessary due to a structural deficit, though critics argue it reflects misplaced priorities, particularly as Oregon increases its investments in athletics and public-private development ventures.

Michigan State University: Fallout from Scandal and Financial Strain

Michigan State University, still grappling with reputational damage and legal costs from high-profile scandals, has trimmed staff in several support areas while quietly shelving plans for new academic initiatives. Some layoffs have come in student affairs and auxiliary services, disproportionately affecting non-tenured staff and hourly workers. Union leaders have pushed back against the lack of transparency and what they view as an erosion of the university’s mission in the name of risk mitigation and corporate-style management.

Vanderbilt University Medical Center: Layoffs in a Profitable Sector

Perhaps the most controversial layoffs have occurred at Vanderbilt University Medical Center (VUMC), a health system that reported strong financials in previous years. In June 2025, VUMC laid off more than 100 employees, including nurses, administrative personnel, and technicians. The center cited the need to reduce costs amid “changing patient volumes” and “shifts in healthcare delivery.” Yet critics point to a broader trend among elite medical centers: aggressive expansion, high executive compensation, and an overreliance on precarious labor—even as core medical services are under strain. The layoffs at VUMC come amid growing public scrutiny of hospital labor practices and the commodification of healthcare within nonprofit medical institutions.

Harvard Kennedy School: Cutting Diversity and Public Policy Staff

At Harvard Kennedy School, layoffs have disproportionately affected staff involved in diversity initiatives and student services, raising questions about the university’s commitment to equity and public interest education. In May 2025, at least 20 staff positions were eliminated, including roles related to community engagement, public service programming, and DEI (Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion) work. The cuts occurred just as Harvard faced external criticism over its tepid response to national and international crises. While the school defended the layoffs as part of a broader “strategic restructuring,” students and faculty protested what they saw as a retreat from the school’s mission of fostering ethical and inclusive leadership.

A Symptom of Deeper Malaise

These layoffs are not isolated incidents. They are part of a larger transformation within higher education and affiliated medical centers—one shaped by managerialism, austerity policies, declining public investment, and a technocratic ethos that often sidelines human costs. Even as tuition rises and research funding grows in some areas, universities and academic health centers increasingly rely on contingent labor while outsourcing vital functions and reducing core services.

What’s being lost is not just jobs, but trust—between institutions and their workers, students, and the broader public. As layoffs mount in places once considered recession-proof and mission-driven, a pressing question remains: what kind of future are these institutions building, and for whom?

Sources

• Stanford Daily, May 2024

• Oregon Public Broadcasting, June 2024

• Lansing State Journal, April 2024

• Nashville Scene, June 2025

• Harvard Crimson, May 2025

• The Chronicle of Higher Education

• Internal communications and faculty council statements

• National Nurses United reports on hospital layoffs

• Interviews with laid-off staff and faculty union representatives

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For more investigative reporting on U.S. higher education and academic labor, follow the Higher Education Inquirer.

Forced Birth, Broken Systems: What Happens When Medicaid Is Cut, Planned Parenthood Is Defunded, Abortion Is Illegal, and Pell Grants Are Slashed

The United States is entering a reproductive and economic crisis with profound and long-lasting effects, not only on public health but on higher education, labor markets, and the basic social contract. With proposed Medicaid cuts threatening to remove 11 to 14 million people from coverage, the defunding of Planned Parenthood already underway in multiple states, abortion outlawed or criminalized in much of the country, and Pell Grants—long the financial lifeline for working-class students—now on the chopping block, the consequences for vulnerable Americans are becoming existential.

Medicaid currently funds 43 percent of all births in the United States, serving as a critical support system for low-income families and especially for women of reproductive age. Cutting this program will mean millions of people, including many students, will lose access to contraception, prenatal care, or safe childbirth. The simultaneous defunding of Planned Parenthood eliminates one of the few affordable sources of reproductive healthcare for millions more, including STI testing and abortion referrals. In states where abortion is now illegal or nearly impossible to access, people without resources are being forced into parenthood—regardless of age, circumstance, health risks, or consent.

The result is not a resurgence of “family values” but a public health disaster. Maternal and infant mortality will rise, especially among Black, Indigenous, and Latina women who already face disproportionate risk. Rural and underfunded hospitals will be pushed to the brink, taking on a wave of uncompensated labor and delivery cases they cannot afford. Many of these same states reject Medicaid expansion and other social supports, leaving poor women and their children with no safety net at all.

And now, the same lawmakers pushing forced birth are demanding cuts to federal student aid. Pell Grants, the cornerstone of college affordability for low-income students, are under threat of restructuring and reduction—some proposals aim to tie eligibility to higher credit loads or academic benchmarks that working students with family responsibilities often cannot meet. Forcing students to take 15 credits a semester to qualify for full funding, while stripping away healthcare, reproductive autonomy, and economic security, creates an impossible trap. The cruelty is calculated.

The consequences for college students—especially women, people of color, and those from working-class backgrounds—will be devastating. A student who becomes pregnant without access to abortion and Medicaid may be forced to carry the pregnancy to term without adequate medical care. Without affordable childcare or family support, many will be unable to complete their degrees. Financially, these students face lifelong setbacks: medical debt, increased student loans, and diminished earning potential.

Planned Parenthood has long been a crucial resource for college students seeking contraception, health screenings, or reproductive counseling. Mental health will suffer across campuses, with increased trauma, anxiety, and depression tied to forced pregnancy, criminalization, and economic desperation. College counseling centers are not equipped to manage this crisis.

Criminalization of abortion and related care also threatens student safety and autonomy. Students could face surveillance, arrest, or disciplinary action for seeking abortion pills, traveling out of state for care, or even sharing information. Faculty and staff may be legally targeted for offering assistance or referrals. The chilling effect on campuses will be immediate and severe, undermining both student health and academic freedom.

Meanwhile, slashing Pell Grants will make college completely unaffordable for thousands. Many will be forced to take out higher-interest loans—or drop out altogether. These financial constraints will disproportionately affect students at community colleges and regional public universities, the very institutions most likely to serve student parents and low-income learners. With every cut to Pell, with every denial of childcare, with every forced birth, the ladder of social mobility collapses further.

This is not just a reproductive rights issue or an education issue. It is a deliberate strategy of control and abandonment. The same communities being forced into parenthood are being stripped of the tools to escape poverty—higher education, healthcare, and bodily autonomy. This is economic warfare dressed in moral righteousness. And it is reshaping the future of who gets to survive, succeed, or dream in America.

Colleges and universities cannot remain silent. Faculty, administrators, and student organizations must speak out against the coordinated assault on reproductive freedom and educational access. Campus activism is already rising, but it is likely to be met with increased repression—funding cuts, surveillance, and political intimidation. Institutions that claim to support equity, justice, and student success must match words with action.

This moment demands more than statements and symbolic gestures. It requires direct resistance and solidarity. It requires fighting for healthcare as a human right, for fully funded Pell Grants and student supports, and for the fundamental freedom to make decisions about one’s own body and future.

In this looming dystopia—where reproductive autonomy is criminalized, education is devalued, and poverty is legislated—the very notion of a democratic and just society is at risk. If higher education is to mean anything at all, it must stand against this assault. Otherwise, it becomes just another engine in the machinery of inequality and control.

Higher Education Inquirer's Long History, Sudden Rise

Since its founding in 2016, the Higher Education Inquirer has steadily established itself as a reliable, independent source for reporting on the less visible dimensions of American higher education. With a focus on institutional decline, labor conditions, and the growing influence of private interests, the publication has grown from a modest blog into a respected outlet for analysis and first-hand accounts. In June 2025, it surpassed 150,000 views, a milestone that reflects both the persistence of its contributors and the relevance of its subject matter.

HEI's development can be traced through its evolving approach to research and storytelling. In its early years, it introduced the phrase college meltdown to describe the financial and enrollment stress afflicting many institutions, particularly small colleges and for-profits. It later popularized the term edugrift, referring to the role of consultants, investors, and online program managers whose involvement in the sector often escapes scrutiny. These terms were not intended for provocation, but as practical shorthand—frameworks for understanding trends that might otherwise be overlooked or mischaracterized.

Throughout its reporting, the Inquirer has placed a premium on documentation and primary sources. Public records, government datasets, and legal filings form the basis of many investigations. Contributions from whistleblowers have added firsthand depth, while independent experts have offered context and critique. Collectively, these elements have allowed the publication to trace patterns not always visible from press releases or institutional communications.

The work has been shaped by a small group of persistent writers and researchers. In addition to its founding contributors, the platform has featured the voices of David Halperin, Henry Giroux, Bryan Alexander, Michael Hainline, Gary Roth, and Annelise Orleck. Each brings a different lens—legal, sociological, historical—but shares a commitment to rigor and accessibility.

Rather than emphasizing single events, the Higher Education Inquirer has tended to focus on slow-moving structural change: the decline in enrollment at non-selective institutions, the tightening of state budgets, the casualization of academic labor, and the steady rise of administrative cost centers. It has also monitored the effects of algorithmic tools and automation in admissions, advising, and teaching, raising questions about accountability and oversight.

Over time, its readership has broadened to include students, faculty, policy analysts, and reporters seeking an alternative to promotional narratives. The site's growth has been slow but consistent, its audience largely built by word of mouth and citation.

The Inquirer has not positioned itself as a substitute for mainstream coverage, but rather as a complement—an archival and analytical space that focuses on enduring issues rather than fleeting controversies. In doing so, it has provided a place where difficult questions about the purpose and direction of higher education can be raised without distraction.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How the 940-Page Senate Bill Accelerates the College Meltdown

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

Slashing the Ladder: Pell Grant Restrictions

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

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

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

Medicaid, SNAP, and the Vanishing Safety Net

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

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

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

Starving Public Colleges

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

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

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

Loans Over Grants, Profits Over People

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

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

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

Enabling the Rise of Robocolleges

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

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

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

A Future for the Few

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

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

Meltdown Legislation 

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

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

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

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Sources:

• NASFAA: Pell Grant Aid Analysis

• Congressional Budget Office (CBO) Medicaid Cut Estimates

• Inside Higher Ed: “Community Colleges Fear Pell Changes”

• GAO Report: “Food and Housing Insecurity Among College Students”

• Brookings Institution: “Cuts to the Social Safety Net and the Future of Higher Education”

Does higher ed still make sense for students, financially? (Bryan Alexander)

[Editor's note: This article first appeared at BryanAlexander.org.]

Is a college degree still worth it?

The radio program/podcast Marketplace hosted me as a guest last week to speak to the question.  You can listen to it* or read my notes below, or both.  I have one reflection at the end of this post building on one interview question.

One caveat or clarification before I get hate mail: the focus of the show was entirely on higher education’s economics.  We didn’t discuss the non-financial functions of post-secondary schooling because that’s not what the show (called “Marketplace”) is about, nor did we talk about justifying academic study for reasons of personal development, family formation, the public good, etc.  The conversation was devoted strictly to the economic proposition.

The hosts, Kimberly Adams and Reema Khrais, began by asking if higher ed still made financial sense.  Yes, I answered, for a good number of people – but not everyone.  Much depends on your degree and your institution’s reputation.  And I hammered home the problem of some college but no degree.  The hosts asked if that value proposition was declining.  My response: the perception of that value is dropping.  Here I emphasized the reality, and the specter, of student debt, along with anxieties about AI and politics.  Then I added my hypothesis that the “college for all” consensus is breaking up.

Next the hosts asked me what changing (declining) attitudes about higher education mean for campuses.  I responded by outlining the many problems, centered around the financial pressures many schools are under.  I noted Trump’s damages then cited my peak higher education model.  Marketplace asked me to explain the appeal of alternatives to college (the skilled trades, certificates, boot camps, etc), which I did, and then we turned to automation, which I broke up into AI vs robotics, before noting gender differences.

Back to college for all: which narrative succeeds it?  I didn’t have a good, single answer right away.  We touched on a resurgence of vocational technology, then I sang the praises of liberal education.  We also talked about the changing value of different degrees – is the BA the new high school diploma? Is a master’s degree still a good idea?  I cited the move to reduce degree demands from certain fields, as well as the decline of the humanities, the crisis of computer science, and the growing importance of allied health.

After my part ended, Adams and Khrais pondered the role of higher education as a culture war battlefield.  Different populations might respond in varied ways – perhaps adults are more into the culture war issues, and maybe women (already the majority of students) are at greater risk of automation.

So what follows the end of college for all?

If the American consensus that K-12 should prepare every student for college breaks down, if we no longer have a rough agreement that the more post-secondary experience people get, the better, the next phase seems to be… mixed.  Perhaps we’re entering an intermediary phase before a new settlement becomes clear.

One component seems to be a resurgence in the skilled trades, requiring either apprenticeship, a short community college course of study, or on the job training.  Demand is still solid, at least until robotics become reliable and cost-effective in these fields, which doesn’t seem to be happening in at least the short term.  This needs preparation in K-12, and we’re already seeing the most prominent voices calling for a return to secondary school trades training.  There’s a retro dimension to this which might appeal to older folks. (I’ve experienced this in conversations with Boomers and my fellow Gen Xers, as people reminisce about shop class and home ec.)

A second piece of the puzzle would be businesses and the public sector expanding their education functions.  There is already an ecosystem of corporate campuses, online training, chief learning officers, and more; that could simply grow as employers seek to wean employees away from college.

A third might be a greater focus on skills across the board. Employers demand certain skills to a higher degree of clarity, perhaps including measurements for soft skills.  K-12 schools better articulate student skill achievement, possibly through microcredentials and/or expanded (portfolio) certification. Higher education expands its use of prior learning assessment for adult learners and transfer students, while also following or paralleling K-12 in more clearly identifying skills within the curriculum and through outcomes.

A fourth would be greater politicization of higher education.  If America pulls back from college for all, college for some arrives and the question of who gets to go to campus becomes a culture war battlefield.  Already a solid majority of students are women, so we might expect gender politics to intensify, with Republicans and men’s rights activists increasingly calling on male teenagers to skip college while young women view university as an even more appropriate stage of their lives.  Academics might buck 2025’s trends and more clearly proclaim the progressive aims they see postsecondary education fulfilling, joined by progressive politicians and cultural figures.  Popular culture might echo this, with movies/TV shows/songs/bestsellers depicting the academy as either a grim ideological factory turning students into fiery liberals or as a safe place for the flowering of justice and identity.

Connecting these elements makes me recall and imagine stories.  I can envision two teenagers, male and female, talking through their expectations of college. One sees it as mandatory “pink collar” preparation while the other dreads it for that reason.  The former was tracked into academic classes while the latter appreciated maker space time and field trips to work sites. Or we might follow a young man as he enters woodworking and succeeds in that field for years, feeling himself supported in his masculinity and also avoiding student debt, until he decides to return to school after health problems limit his professional abilities.  Perhaps one business sets up a campus and an apprenticeship system which it codes politically, such as claiming a focus on merit and not DEI, on manly virtues and traditional culture. In contrast another firm does the same but without any political coding, instead carefully anchoring everything in measured and certified skill development.

Over all of these options looms the specter of AI, and here the picture is more muddy.  Do “pink collar” jobs persist as alternatives to the experience of chatbots, or do we automate those functions?  Does post-secondary education become mandatory for jobs handling AIs, which I’ve been calling “AI wranglers”?  If automation depresses the labor force, do we come to see college as a gamble on scoring a rare, well paying job?

I’ll stop here.  My thanks to Marketplace for the kind interview on a vital topic.

*My audio quality isn’t the best because I fumbled the recording. Sigh.