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Tuesday, March 4, 2025

The Future of Federal Student Loans

The U.S. student loan system, now exceeding $1.7 trillion in debt and affecting over 40 million borrowers, is facing significant challenges. As political pressures rise, the management of student loans could be significantly altered. A combination of potential privatization, the elimination of the U.S. Department of Education (ED), and a new role for the Department of the Treasury raises critical questions about the future of the system.

U.S. Department of Education: Strained Resources and Outsourcing

The U.S. Department of Education (ED) is responsible for managing federal student loan servicing, loan forgiveness programs, and borrower defense to repayment (BDR) claims. However, ED has faced ongoing issues with understaffing and inefficiency, particularly as many functions have been outsourced to contractors. Companies like Maximus (including subsidiaries like AidVantage) manage much of the administrative burden for loan servicing. This has raised concerns about accountability and the impact on borrowers, especially those seeking loan relief.

In recent years, ED has also experienced staff reductions and funding cuts, making it difficult to process claims or maintain high-quality service. The potential for further cuts or even the elimination of the department could exacerbate these problems. If ED’s role is diminished, other entities, such as the Department of the Treasury, could assume responsibility for managing the student loan portfolio, though this would present its own set of challenges.

Potential for Privatization of the Student Loan Portfolio

One of the most discussed options for addressing the student loan crisis is the privatization of the federal student loan portfolio. Under previous administration discussions, including those during President Trump’s tenure, there were talks about selling off parts of the student loan portfolio to private companies. This would be done with the aim of reducing the federal deficit.

In 2019, McKinsey & Company was hired by the Trump administration to analyze the value of the student loan portfolio, considering factors such as default rates and economic conditions. While the report's findings were never made public, the idea of transferring the loans to private companies—such as banks or investment firms—remains a possibility.

The consequences of privatizing federal student loans could be significant. Private companies would likely focus on profitability, which could result in stricter repayment terms or less flexibility for borrowers seeking loan forgiveness or other relief options. This shift may reduce borrower protections, making it harder for students to challenge repayment terms or pursue loan discharges.

The Department of the Treasury and its Potential Role

If the U.S. Department of Education is restructured or eliminated, there is a possibility that the Department of the Treasury could step in to manage some aspects of the student loan portfolio. The Treasury is responsible for the country’s financial systems and debt management, so it could, in theory, handle the federal student loan portfolio from a financial oversight perspective.

However, while the Treasury has experience in financial management, it lacks the specialized knowledge of student loans and borrower protections that the Department of Education currently provides. For example, the Treasury would need to find ways to process complex Borrower Defense to Repayment claims, a responsibility ED currently manages. In 2023, over 750,000 Borrower Defense claims were pending, with thousands of claims related to predatory practices at for-profit colleges such as University of Phoenix, ITT Tech, and Kaplan University (now known as Purdue Global). Additionally, some of these for-profit schools were able to reorganize and continue operating under different names, further complicating the situation.

The Treasury could also contract out loan servicing, but this could increase reliance on profit-driven companies, possibly compromising the interests of borrowers in favor of financial performance.

Borrower Defense Claims and the Impact of For-Profit Schools

A large portion of the Borrower Defense to Repayment claims comes from students who attended for-profit colleges with a history of deceptive practices. These institutions, often referred to as subprime colleges, misled students about job prospects, program outcomes, and accreditation, leaving many with significant student debt but poor employment outcomes.

Data from 2023 revealed that over 750,000 Borrower Defense claims were filed with the Department of Education, many of them against for-profit institutions. The Sweet v. Cardona case showed that more than 200,000 borrowers were expected to receive debt relief after years of waiting. However, the process was slow, with an estimated 16,000 new claims being filed each month, and only 35 ED workers handling these claims. These delays, combined with the uncertainty around the future of ED, leave borrowers vulnerable to prolonged financial hardship. 

Lack of Transparency and Accountability in the System

While the U.S. Department of Education tracks Borrower Defense claims, it does not publish institutional-level data, making it difficult to identify which schools are responsible for the most fraudulent activity. 

In response to this, FOIA requests have been filed by organizations like the National Student Legal Defense Network and the Higher Education Inquirer to obtain detailed information about which institutions are disproportionately affecting borrowers. 

In one such request, the Higher Education Inquirer asked for information regarding claims filed against the University of Phoenix, a school with a significant number of Borrower Defense claims.

The lack of transparency in the system makes it harder for borrowers to make informed decisions about which institutions to attend and limits accountability for schools that have harmed students. If the Treasury or private companies take over management of the loan portfolio, these transparency issues could worsen, as private entities are less likely to prioritize public accountability.

Conclusion

The future of the U.S. student loan system is uncertain, particularly as the Department of Education faces the potential of funding cuts, staff reductions, or even complete dissolution. If ED’s role diminishes or disappears, the Department of the Treasury could take over some functions, but this would raise questions about the fairness and transparency of the system.

The possibility of privatizing the student loan portfolio also looms large, which could shift the focus away from borrower protections and toward financial gain for private companies. For-profit schools, many of which have a history of predatory practices, are responsible for a disproportionate number of Borrower Defense claims, and any move to privatize the loan portfolio could exacerbate the challenges faced by borrowers seeking relief from these institutions.

Ultimately, there is a need for greater transparency and accountability in how the student loan system operates. Whether managed by the Department of Education, the Treasury, or private companies, protecting borrowers and ensuring fairness should remain central to any future reforms. If these issues are not addressed, millions of borrowers will continue to face significant financial hardship.

Sunday, August 10, 2025

Why Won’t Ohio State Pay for Richard Strauss’s Sexual Assault Scandal?

Ohio State University (OSU), one of the nation’s largest public universities, remains mired in controversy over its handling of sexual abuse committed by Dr. Richard Strauss, the former team doctor accused of assaulting hundreds of student-athletes from the late 1970s through the 1990s. Despite overwhelming evidence and mounting public pressure, OSU has refused to settle lawsuits filed by survivors, prolonging their struggle for justice.

The HBO Max documentary Disgraced: The Trial of Richard Strauss has reignited national attention, exposing not only Strauss’s horrific abuse but also the systemic institutional failures that allowed it to continue for nearly two decades. Survivors detail the trauma endured and the university’s decades-long pattern of minimizing complaints and protecting its reputation at the expense of student safety.

Jim Jordan’s Controversial Role

The scandal extends beyond OSU’s administrative leadership into political territory. Congressman Jim Jordan, a former Ohio State wrestling coach during much of the period when Strauss’s abuse occurred, has faced intense scrutiny and criticism. Multiple survivors allege that Jordan was aware of the abuse and failed to act, though he has consistently denied any knowledge or involvement.

Jordan’s political prominence has complicated public discourse around the case. As a powerful figure in Washington, D.C., and a vocal advocate for conservative causes, his perceived silence has been deeply troubling to survivors and advocates demanding accountability. His defenders argue there is no concrete evidence implicating him, but the HBO Max documentary highlights survivor testimonies suggesting a culture of silence in which even coaching staff ignored or dismissed warning signs.

A Legacy of Silence and Denial at OSU

For decades, reports of abuse by Strauss were reportedly ignored or covered up by OSU’s leadership, including athletic department officials who prioritized winning and prestige. The university’s initial responses to allegations frequently minimized their severity or shifted blame to victims. Internal investigations confirmed a pattern of institutional failure.

The HBO Max documentary illuminates the depth of the trauma endured by survivors and the barriers they faced coming forward. Yet OSU has largely resisted accountability, focusing instead on legal defenses to avoid costly settlements.

Why Won’t Ohio State Pay?

Ohio State’s refusal to settle represents more than a legal strategy; it reveals the university’s ongoing struggle to accept responsibility. The potential financial liability could reach hundreds of millions of dollars given the scale of abuse. OSU appears to prioritize protecting its finances and reputation over providing restitution to survivors.

Observers suggest OSU’s delay tactics aim to exhaust plaintiffs, hoping some will drop their claims due to frustration or financial hardship. Meanwhile, funds are directed toward legal defenses rather than survivor support or institutional reform.

Broader Implications for College Athletics and Accountability

The Strauss case is a microcosm of a larger crisis in college sports, where institutions often enable abuse by valuing athletic success over student safety. The HBO Max documentary is a stark call for systemic reforms, transparency, and survivor-centered justice.

While OSU has taken some steps toward reform, survivors and advocates insist that without financial restitution and full acknowledgment of institutional failures, healing remains out of reach.

The Continuing Fight for Justice 

Survivors continue their fight for justice amid increasing public scrutiny. Ohio State’s refusal to settle is a challenge to its integrity and public trust. The involvement of figures like Jim Jordan adds complexity and underscores the intertwined nature of institutional and political accountability.

As awareness grows, pressure mounts on OSU and universities nationwide to reform policies, support survivors, and confront past abuses honestly. Disgraced: The Trial of Richard Strauss is a sobering reminder that silence and denial only deepen wounds—and that justice, though delayed, must ultimately be delivered.


Sources:

  • Disgraced: The Trial of Richard Strauss, HBO Max, 2025

  • Investigative reporting from The Columbus Dispatch

  • Legal filings in the Strauss lawsuits

  • Public statements and congressional records concerning Jim Jordan

  • Official Ohio State University communications

Wednesday, August 20, 2025

College Meltdown Fall 2025

The Fall 2025 semester begins under intensifying pressure in U.S. higher education. Institutions are responding to long-term changes in enrollment, public funding, demographics, technology, and labor markets. The result is a gradual disassembly of parts of the postsecondary system, with ongoing layoffs, program cuts, and institutional restructuring across both public and private sectors.


The Destruction of ED

In a stunning turn, the U.S. Department of Education has undergone a massive downsizing, slashing nearly half its workforce as part of the Trump administration’s push to dismantle the agency entirely. Education Secretary Linda McMahon framed the move as a “final mission” to restore state control and eliminate federal bureaucracy, but critics warn of chaos for vulnerable students and families who rely on federal programs. With responsibilities like student loans, Pell Grants, and civil rights enforcement now in limbo, Higher Education Institutions face a volatile landscape. The absence of centralized oversight has accelerated the fragmentation of standards, funding, and accountability—leaving colleges scrambling to navigate a patchwork of state policies and shrinking federal support.

AI Disruption: Academic Integrity and Graduate Employment 

Artificial Intelligence has rapidly reshaped higher education, introducing both powerful tools and profound challenges. On campus, AI-driven platforms like ChatGPT have become ubiquitous—92% of students now use them, and 88% admit to deploying AI for graded assignments. This surge has triggered a spike in academic misconduct, with detection systems struggling to keep pace and disproportionately flagging non-native English speakers Meanwhile, the job market for graduates is undergoing a seismic shift. Entry-level roles in tech, finance, and consulting are vanishing as companies automate routine tasks once reserved for junior staff. AI-driven layoffs have already claimed over 10,000 jobs in 2025 alone, and some experts predict that up to half of all white-collar entry-level positions could be eliminated within five years. For recent grads, this means navigating a landscape where degrees may hold less weight, and adaptability, AI fluency, and human-centered skills are more critical than ever.

Unsustainable Student Loan Debt and Federal Funding 

A recent report from the American Enterprise Institute (AEI) highlights the depth of the crisis: more than 1,000 colleges could lose access to federal student aid based on current student loan repayment rates—if existing rules were fully enforced. The findings expose systemic failures in accountability and student outcomes. Many of these colleges enroll high numbers of low-income students but leave them with unsustainable debt and limited job prospects.

Institutional Cuts and Layoffs Across the Country

Job losses and cost reductions are increasing across a range of universities.

Stanford University is cutting staff due to a projected $200 million budget shortfall.
University of Oregon has announced budget reductions and academic restructuring.
Michigan State University is implementing layoffs and reorganizing departments.
Vanderbilt University Medical Center is eliminating positions to manage healthcare operating costs.
Harvard Kennedy School is reducing programs and offering early retirement.
Brown University is freezing hiring and reviewing academic offerings.
Penn State University System is closing three Commonwealth Campuses.
Indiana public colleges are merging administrative functions and reviewing low-enrollment programs.

These actions affect not only employees and students but also local communities and regional labor markets.

Enrollment Decline and Demographic Change

Undergraduate enrollment has fallen 14.6% since Fall 2019, according to the National Student Clearinghouse Research Center. Community colleges have experienced the largest losses, with some regions seeing more than 20% declines.

The “demographic cliff” tied to declining birth rates is now reflected in enrollment trends. The Western Interstate Commission for Higher Education (WICHE) projects a 15% decline in high school graduates between 2025 and 2037 in parts of the Midwest and Northeast.

Aging Population and Shifts in Public Spending

The U.S. population is aging. By 2030, all baby boomers will be over 65. The number of Americans aged 80 and older is expected to rise from 13 million in 2020 to nearly 20 million by 2035. Public resources are being redirected toward Social Security, Medicare, and elder care, placing higher education in direct competition for limited federal and state funds.

State-Level Cuts to Higher Education Budgets

According to the State Higher Education Executive Officers Association (SHEEO), 28 states saw a decline in inflation-adjusted funding per student in FY2024.

The California State University system faces a $400 million structural deficit.
West Virginia has reduced academic programs in favor of workforce-focused realignment.
Indiana has ordered cost-cutting measures across public campuses.

These reductions are leading to fewer courses, increased workloads, and, in some cases, higher tuition.

Closures and Mergers Continue

Since 2020, more than 100 campuses have closed or merged, based on Education Dive and HEI data. In 2025, Penn State began closing three Commonwealth Campuses. A number of small private colleges—especially those with enrollments under 1,000 and limited endowments—are seeking mergers or shutting down entirely.

International Enrollment Faces Obstacles

The Institute of International Education (IIE) reports a 12% decline in new international student enrollment in Fall 2024. Contributing factors include visa delays and tighter immigration rules. Students from India, Nigeria, and Iran have experienced longer wait times and increased rejection rates. Graduate programs in STEM and business are particularly affected.

Increased Surveillance and Restrictions on Campus Speech

Data from FIRE and the Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF) show increased use of surveillance tools on campuses since 2023. At least 15 public universities now use facial recognition, social media monitoring, or geofencing. State laws in Florida, Texas, and Georgia have introduced new restrictions on protests and diversity programs.

Automated Education Expands

Online Program Managers (OPMs) such as 2U, Kaplan, and Coursera are running over 500 online degree programs at more than 200 institutions, enrolling more than 1.5 million students. These programs often rely on AI-generated content and automated grading systems, with minimal instructor interaction.

Research from the Century Foundation shows that undergraduate programs operated by OPMs have completion rates below 35%, while charging tuition comparable to in-person degrees. Regulatory efforts to improve transparency and accountability remain stalled.

Oversight Gaps Remain

Accrediting agencies continue to approve closures, mergers, and new credential programs with limited transparency. Institutions are increasingly expanding short-term credential offerings and corporate partnerships with minimal external review.

Cost Shifts to Students, Faculty, and Communities

The ongoing restructuring of higher education is shifting costs and risks onto students, employees, and communities. Students face rising tuition, fewer available courses, and increased reliance on loans. Faculty and staff encounter job insecurity and heavier workloads. Outside the ivory tower, communities will lose access to educational services, cultural events, and local employment opportunities tied to campuses.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to report on the structural changes in U.S. higher education—grounded in data, public records, and the lived experiences of those directly affected.

Sources:
National Student Clearinghouse Research Center, Western Interstate Commission for Higher Education (WICHE), U.S. Census Bureau, State Higher Education Executive Officers Association (SHEEO), Institute of International Education (IIE), Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE), Electronic Frontier Foundation (EFF), Government Accountability Office (GAO), The Century Foundation, Stanford University, University of Oregon, Penn State University System, Harvard Kennedy School, Vanderbilt University Medical Center, Education Dive Higher Ed Closures Tracker, American Enterprise Institute (AEI).

Thursday, March 13, 2025

States, Suing Trump Over Gutting of Education Dept., Cite Threat of Predatory College Abuses (David Halperin)

Twenty-one Democratic state attorneys general sued President Trump and Secretary of Education Linda McMahon today, 48 hours after the Department of Education announced it was firing more than 1,300 employees, which, combined with previously Trump-Musk efforts to cull the staff, reduced the employee roster to less than half of the 4000+ person team that was working as of January.

The 53-page complaint, filed in federal court in Massachusetts, alleges that the staff reductions are illegal and unconstitutional, because they are “equivalent to incapacitating key, statutorily-mandated functions of the Department.” The AGs say that although McMahon has authority from Congress to restructure the Department, she is “not permitted to eliminate or disrupt functions required by statute, nor can she transfer the department’s responsibilities to another agency outside of its statutory authorization.”

Among the federal statutes that the state AGs contend will be undermined by this week’s staff cuts are those covering higher education, including the Department’s obligations to ensure that federal student grants and loans may be used only at colleges and universities that provide quality educations and comply with the law. The complaint notes that the Department is charged with ensuring that colleges receiving federal aid are financially responsible, that they submit to financial audits, and that they provide adequate counseling to students concerning debt management.

The AGs also note that the Department is required to review and approve private college accrediting agencies, because under the law only schools approved by Department-recognized accreditors are eligible for federal student aid. Without that process, the AGs warn, “institutions of higher education may engage in profit-seeking behaviors without relating any educational benefits to students.”

The AGs might have added that the cuts will undermine the capacity of the Department to directly investigate colleges that engage in predatory and deceptive behavior. Data released by the Department shows the largest number of layoffs — 326 people — were at the Office of Federal Student Aid (FSA), which oversees student lending and school compliance with legal obligations not to mislead and abuse students.

The Department of Education’s higher education accountability efforts over decades have often been half-hearted and ineffectual; despite the scores of staff assigned to overseeing colleges, many students, and hundreds of billions in taxpayer dollars, have been directed to deceptive, poor-quality schools that have left many students worse off than when they started. But gutting these efforts to the degree suggested by this week’s staff reductions would make matters much worse. And the first-term higher education record of President Trump, guided by Secretary of Education Betsy DeVos and her aide Diane Auer Jones, was heavily skewed in favor of slashing accountability rules and enforcement, providing no reason to be optimistic that an aim of slashing the staff this year is to improve accountability.

The cuts would also undermine core Department responsibilities in K-12 education, civil rights, disability rights, privacy rights, campus safety, and the student loan portfolio.

Secretary McMahon is publicly insisting that everything will be fine and more efficient with the reduced and reorganized staff. But, as the new lawsuit from the attorneys general notes, McMahon said on Tuesday that the firing are the “first step” on the road to a “total shutdown” of the Department.

The attorneys general who filed the complaint are from Arizona, California, Colorado, Connecticut, Delaware, Hawaii, Illinois, Maine, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, Nevada, New Jersey, New York, Oregon, Rhode Island, Washington, Wisconsin, Vermont and the District of Columbia.

Former Department officials and education advocates plan to rally Friday morning at 8 am outside Department of Education headquarters in Washington to protest the mass firings and plans to shut down the agency.

[Editor's note: This article originally appeared on Republic Report.]  

Wednesday, July 30, 2025

Higher Learning Commission Passes the Buck on Ambow-CSU Deal

The Higher Learning Commission (HLC), the regional accreditor for Colorado State University (CSU), has refused to comment on whether it is investigating or overseeing any partnership between CSU and Ambow Education, a Chinese-American education technology company with a record of volatility, opacity, and questionable business practices.

In an email to the Higher Education Inquirer on July 28, HLC Public Information Officer Laura Janota wrote, “You would need to check with the institution regarding any specifics about its agreement with Ambow Education.” While acknowledging that HLC evaluates an institution’s offerings and operations as part of its ongoing accreditation relationship, Janota pointed to generic contractual guidance on the HLC website rather than offering any assurance that the accreditor is scrutinizing a deal involving Ambow—a company that has raised alarms due to its foray into the U.S. higher ed sector via its HybriU platform.

This type of response is not unusual for HLC, which has come under criticism for its lack of accountability and its longstanding pattern of accrediting both elite universities and subprime colleges.

As previously reported by the Higher Education Inquirer:

"Institutional accreditation is no sign of quality. Worse yet, accreditation by organizations such as the Middle States Association, Western Association of Schools and Colleges, and the Higher Learning Commission is used by subprime colleges to lend legitimacy to their predatory, low-standard operations."

According to the U.S. Department of Education, HLC currently accredits 946 Title IV-eligible institutions, opening the doors for them to collectively receive nearly $40 billion in federal student aid annually—along with billions more from the Department of Defense and Department of Veterans Affairs.

HLC accredits prestigious institutions such as the University of Chicago, University of Michigan, and Notre Dame. But it also accredits notorious subprime schools including Colorado Technical University, DeVry University, University of Phoenix, Walden University, National American University, and Purdue University Global. On the three pillars of regional accreditation—compliance, quality assurance, and quality improvement—HLC has consistently failed when it comes to oversight of predatory institutions.

Even as far back as 2000, critics within academia called out the ethical rot. The American Association of University Professors protested HLC’s support of for-profit schools. That same year, then-AAUP General Secretary Mary A. Burgan remarked:

"I really worry about the intrusion of the profit motive in the accreditation system. Some of them, as I have said, will accredit a ham sandwich."

HLC’s financial structure reinforces this compromised position: it is funded by the institutions it accredits. Over the last 30 years, HLC has collected millions of dollars in dues from some of the nation’s most predatory schools. This funding model mirrors the conflicts of interest that plagued credit rating agencies during the 2008 financial crisis—a comparison made explicitly by economists David Deming and David Figlio in a 2016 report:

“Accreditors—who are paid by the institutions themselves—appear to be ineffectual at best, much like the role of credit rating agencies during the recent financial crisis.”

Despite public attention, federal oversight of accreditors remains weak. Under the Trump-DeVos administration, regulatory protections were rolled back significantly. A 2023 internal investigation revealed that the U.S. Department of Education was not adequately monitoring accreditors, confirming what many higher education watchdogs already knew: that no one is truly watching the accreditors.

The Ambow-CSU situation underscores this systemic failure. Rather than acting as an independent reviewer, HLC has chosen to defer responsibility to the very institution it is tasked with overseeing. This is not just a case of passing the buck; it's another example of accreditors shielding themselves from accountability while public institutions are left to make private deals with for-profit entities—unchecked, unregulated, and largely unreported.

Sources:

Monday, August 4, 2025

The Data We Can Still Trust: Holding Colleges Accountable When Transparency Declines

In an age where facts are contested and data manipulated, the question "Can we trust the numbers?" has become not just philosophical but political—and deeply consequential. Nowhere is this more evident than in higher education policy, where recent moves by the federal government have drastically undermined transparency, oversight, and public trust.

The dismantling of truth has reached new heights in 2025. Under the second Trump administration, the U.S. Department of Education has seen unprecedented budget cuts, including the near-evisceration of offices responsible for data collection and analysis. Key functions of the National Center for Education Statistics (NCES) have been gutted or quietly privatized, leaving researchers, journalists, and the public in the dark about the state of America's colleges and universities.

While much of the media has focused on the culture wars roiling campuses, the real war—against accountability—has played out more quietly through bureaucratic defunding and the removal of inconvenient truth-tellers.

In a stunning move this summer, President Trump fired the head of the Bureau of Labor Statistics (BLS), reportedly over the refusal to manipulate job figures and educational attainment data to suit administration talking points. The firing came just days after the BLS declined to revise downward the number of unemployed college graduates—a number that contradicted public claims of an “education-fueled economic boom.”

The Department of Labor's statistical integrity had been under increasing pressure in recent months. Sources within the agency described an atmosphere of intimidation and growing self-censorship. Internal memos revealed efforts to suppress long-term wage stagnation data and the underemployment rates among recent college grads.

Meanwhile, the Department of Education—once tasked with producing detailed reports on student outcomes, loan default rates, and institutional effectiveness—has abandoned major longitudinal studies. The College Scorecard website, once a marginal tool for transparency, now offers cherry-picked metrics and lacks any independent oversight. Public datasets are incomplete or years out of date. Critical tools like the Integrated Postsecondary Education Data System (IPEDS) are being quietly dismantled under the guise of "streamlining."

These changes don’t just affect policy wonks and higher ed insiders. They directly impact students, families, and communities trying to navigate a rapidly shifting and often predatory education marketplace. Without reliable data on debt loads, job placement, or graduation rates, how can anyone make informed decisions about college?

The answer, increasingly, is: they can’t. And perhaps that’s the point.

For an administration and its allies pushing voucher-style education reforms, expanded online programs, and reduced regulatory scrutiny, ignorance is a strategic asset. In a data vacuum, ideology prevails. Numbers become whatever those in power say they are.

This erosion of statistical integrity is part of a broader trend of de-democratizing knowledge. When facts become partisan tools and empirical research is defunded or delegitimized, the public loses its capacity to make informed decisions—not just about higher education, but about the future of the country itself.

The Higher Education Inquirer has long reported on the College Meltdown—the slow-motion unraveling of a bloated, debt-fueled, and increasingly corporatized higher ed system. But what happens when the meltdown is obscured by manipulated metrics and silenced dissent?

We are entering a phase where the collapse is not just structural or economic, but epistemological. Without reliable data, accountability vanishes. And when accountability dies, so does democracy.

The Numbers We Can Still Trust

Despite the chaos at the federal level, not all is lost. Gary Stocker, founder of College Viability and a long-time analyst of college financial health, emphasizes that historical data from IPEDS, audited financial statements, and IRS 990s remain largely intact—and still extremely valuable.

“There might be some risk for future numbers,” Stocker explains, “but I contend there is little risk for historical numbers from IPEDS, financial statements, and IRS 990s. Those numbers are baked in and would be very difficult to alter.”

This long-view perspective is critical in a time when many colleges and universities are trying to spin short-term narratives of recovery.

“If the enrollment trend is down over the past 8–10 years, that is the indicator of a college in trouble,” Stocker says. “Any college that tries to spin a 1-year, full enrollment recovery story will face extensive doubt and disbelief—especially from me.”

These longitudinal patterns—whether in enrollment, tuition discounting, administrative bloat, or student outcomes—are more important than ever. And while IPEDS may be on the chopping block, Stocker reminds us that nonprofit institutions are still legally obligated to submit audited financials and IRS 990 forms.

“Those two resources alone will be a tool with which to identify and expose those colleges willing to risk taking poetic license with their data.”

At The Higher Education Inquirer, we agree—and we thank Gary Stocker for his clarity and persistence. Transparency doesn’t depend solely on the federal government. It depends on those willing to dig, analyze, and expose the truth—even when that truth is buried in spreadsheets and footnotes.

We urge journalists, researchers, students, and faculty to continue examining the data that remains. The numbers don’t lie. But silence, distortion, and disappearance are forms of policy. And right now, those policies are accelerating.

Sources:

– U.S. Department of Education Budget Summary, FY2025
– Internal whistleblower reports from the Bureau of Labor Statistics
– “Bureau Head Fired Over Data Dispute,” Washington Post, June 2025
– American Council on Education analysis of NCES defunding, July 2025
– U.S. Department of Education, Integrated Postsecondary Education Data System (IPEDS): https://nces.ed.gov/ipeds/
– IRS Form 990 Search: https://apps.irs.gov/app/eos/
– Gary Stocker, College Viabilityhttps://collegeviability.com/
– Gary Stocker, Personal communication with The Higher Education Inquirer, August 2025
Chronicle of Higher Education, “Enrollment Trends and Institutional Closures,” accessed 2025
– National Association of College and University Business Officers (NACUBO), “Tuition Discounting Study,” various years
Higher Education Inquirer archives on data transparency and College Scorecard manipulation

Sunday, April 27, 2025

A New Era of Accountability: The Case for Taxing Universities with Legacy Admissions.

As debates around the fairness of college admissions continue to dominate headlines, a growing number of voices are calling for a fundamental change in how universities operate—especially when it comes to legacy admissions. Legacy admissions, a practice where children of alumni are given preferential treatment in the admissions process, have long been a controversial issue. Critics argue that these policies disproportionately benefit wealthy, predominantly white families, perpetuating cycles of privilege and inequality in higher education.

However, a new idea has emerged: what if universities that maintain legacy admissions policies were taxed? This radical proposal seeks to directly address the social and economic disparities that legacy admissions exacerbate. Let’s break down how this concept could work and why it may be an essential step toward greater fairness in higher education.

Legacy Admissions and Their Impact

Legacy admissions are widely seen as a way for universities to maintain strong alumni relations and secure large financial donations. While this may have practical advantages for universities, the social consequences are more troubling. Studies have shown that legacy students tend to come from wealthier backgrounds and are often already overrepresented in the student body of elite institutions.

For example, at Ivy League schools like Harvard and Yale, legacy students make up a disproportionately high percentage of the accepted class, despite often having lower academic performance metrics compared to their non-legacy peers. The practice has sparked outrage from students, parents, and activists who argue that it locks out deserving candidates from underrepresented communities, particularly students of color and first-generation college applicants.

The Taxation Proposal

The core of the proposed policy is simple: universities that admit a significant number of legacy students—say, 20% or more of the incoming class—would be required to pay a tax based on the proportion of legacy students admitted. This tax could be structured progressively, with higher taxes imposed on universities with a greater percentage of legacy admits. The funds raised could be earmarked for initiatives aimed at increasing diversity, providing scholarships for underrepresented students, or supporting public universities that offer accessible, low-cost education.

The argument for this approach is rooted in the idea that universities benefiting from preferential admissions policies should be held financially accountable for the social inequality they perpetuate. By taxing legacy admissions, we create an economic incentive for universities to reconsider these outdated practices and move toward a more equitable admissions process.

Economic and Social Benefits

  1. Encouraging Diversity: Universities that rely on legacy admissions often argue that they are fostering long-term relationships with alumni and maintaining their traditions. However, the proposed tax would encourage schools to focus more on diversity and accessibility. With the additional tax burden, institutions would likely seek alternative ways to boost their endowments or attract alumni donations, potentially pushing them toward more inclusive, merit-based admissions policies.

  2. Supporting Public Institutions: The revenue generated from taxing legacy admissions could be reinvested into public universities, which often face funding shortages and higher tuition rates. These schools serve a larger proportion of low-income and first-generation students, and additional funding could help close the equity gap between public and private universities.

  3. Public Accountability: The tax system would provide an additional layer of public accountability for how universities operate, ensuring that schools with large endowments and large alumni bases do not perpetuate systems of privilege at the expense of broader societal equality.

Addressing Concerns

Opponents of this idea will likely argue that taxing universities could have unintended consequences, such as limiting the resources available for financial aid or academic programs. Some may also claim that legacy admissions serve a legitimate purpose in fostering strong alumni networks and ensuring continued donations.

However, these concerns fail to address the larger moral issue at stake: the perpetuation of privilege in higher education. Universities, especially those with large endowments, can afford to innovate and adapt. Many already provide substantial financial aid packages, and the taxes levied on legacy admissions would provide a direct opportunity to reinvest those resources into a more equitable future.

The Path Forward

In many ways, taxing legacy admissions is just one piece of the puzzle. A comprehensive reform agenda would also include revisiting standardized testing practices, increasing transparency in the admissions process, and offering more substantial financial aid packages to students from underrepresented backgrounds. However, the idea of using tax policy to address the inequities embedded in legacy admissions provides a concrete, measurable step forward.

It’s time for universities to evolve and embrace a future where access to higher education is based on merit, not on family connections or wealth. By taxing schools that perpetuate legacy admissions, we can push institutions to confront their role in social inequality and work toward a more inclusive and accessible system for all students.

Saturday, June 28, 2025

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

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

The Harvard-Russia Nexus

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

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

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

Lawrence Summers and the Russian Connection

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

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

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

A Broader Pattern of Complicity

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

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

The Death of a Dissident

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

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

Where is the Accountability?

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

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

Elite Academia and Oligarchy

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

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

Saturday, July 12, 2025

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

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

A People’s Institution

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

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

The Turn Toward Privatization and Market Competition

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

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

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

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

The 2006 PAEA: A Manufactured Crisis

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

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

Enter Trump: Sabotage with a Smile

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

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

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

Workforce Impact and Labor Erosion

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

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

Service Cuts and a Two-Tier America

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

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

The Broader War on Public Infrastructure

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

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

A Line in the Sand

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

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

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

Sources:

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

  • Bureau of Labor Statistics, Occupational Employment and Wage Statistics

  • Congressional Research Service: The Postal Accountability and Enhancement Act

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

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

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

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

  • American Postal Workers Union (apwu.org)

Wednesday, April 23, 2025

Trump’s Higher Education Crackdown: Culture War in a Cap and Gown

In a recent flurry of executive orders, former President Donald Trump has escalated his administration’s long-running war on American higher education, targeting college accreditation processes, foreign donations to universities, and elite institutions like Harvard and Columbia. Framed as a campaign for accountability and meritocracy, these actions are in reality part of a broader effort to weaponize public distrust, reinforce ideological purity tests, and strong-arm colleges into political obedience.

But even if Trump's crusade were rooted in good faith—which it clearly is not—his chosen mechanism for “fixing” higher education, the accreditation system, is already deeply flawed. It’s not just that Trump is using a broken tool for political ends—it's that the tool itself has long been part of the problem.

Accreditation: Already a Low Bar

Accreditation in U.S. higher education is often mistaken by the public as a sign of quality. In reality, it’s often a rubber stamp—granted by private agencies funded by the very schools they evaluate. “Yet in practice,” write economists David Deming and David Figlio, “accreditors—who are paid by the institutions themselves—appear to be ineffectual at best, much like the role of credit rating agencies during the recent financial crisis.”

As a watchdog of America’s subprime colleges and a monitor of the ongoing College Meltdown, the Higher Education Inquirer has long reported that institutional accreditation is no sign of academic quality. Worse, it is frequently used by subprime colleges as a veneer of legitimacy to mask predatory practices, inflated tuition, and low academic standards.

The Higher Learning Commission (HLC), the nation’s largest accreditor, monitors nearly a thousand institutions—ranging from prestigious schools like the University of Chicago and University of Michigan to for-profit, scandal-plagued operations such as Colorado Technical University, DeVry University, University of Phoenix, and Walden University. These subprime colleges receive billions annually in federal student aid—money that flows through an accreditation pipeline that’s barely regulated and heavily compromised.

On the three pillars of accreditation—compliance, quality assurance, and quality improvement—the Higher Learning Commission often fails spectacularly when it comes to subprime institutions. That’s not just a bug in the system; it’s the system working as designed.

Who Watches the Watchers?

Accreditors like the HLC receive dues from member institutions, giving them a vested interest in keeping their customers viable, no matter how exploitative their practices may be. Despite objections from the American Association of University Professors, the HLC has accredited for-profit colleges since 1977 and ethically questionable operations for nearly two decades.

As Mary A. Burgan, then General Secretary of the AAUP, put it bluntly in 2000:

"I really worry about the intrusion of the profit motive in the accreditation system. Some of them, as I have said, will accredit a ham sandwich..."

[Image: From CHEA: Higher Learning Commission dues for member colleges. Over the last 30 years, HLC has received millions of dollars from subprime schools like the University of Phoenix.]

The Council for Higher Education Accreditation (CHEA), which oversees accreditors, acts more like a trade association than a watchdog. Meanwhile, the U.S. Department of Education—the only federal entity with oversight responsibility—has done little to ensure quality or accountability. Under the Trump-DeVos regime, the Department actively dismantled what little regulatory framework existed, rolling back Obama-era protections that aimed to curb predatory schools and improve transparency.

In 2023, an internal investigation revealed that the Department of Education was failing to properly monitor accreditors—yet Trump’s solution is to hand even more power to this broken apparatus while demanding it serve political ends.

Harvard: Not a Victim, But a Gatekeeper of the Elite

While Trump's attacks on Harvard are rooted in personal and political animus, it's important not to portray the university as a defenseless bastion of the common good. Harvard is already deeply entrenched in elite power structures—economically, socially, and politically.

The university’s admissions policies have long favored legacy applicants, children of donors, and the ultra-wealthy. It has one of the largest endowments in the world—over $50 billion—yet its efforts to serve working-class and marginalized students remain modest in proportion to its vast resources.

Harvard has produced more Wall Street bankers, U.S. presidents, and Supreme Court justices than any other institution. Its graduates populate the upper echelons of the corporate, political, and media elite. In many ways, Harvard is the establishment Trump claims to rail against—even if his own policies often reinforce that very establishment.

Harvard is not leading a revolution in equity or access. Rather, it polishes the credentials of those already destined to lead, reinforcing a hierarchy that leaves most Americans—including working-class and first-generation students—on the outside looking in.

The Silence on Legacy Admissions

While Trump rails against elite universities in the name of “meritocracy,” there is a glaring omission in the conversation: the entrenched unfairness of legacy admissions. These policies—where applicants with familial ties to alumni receive preferential treatment—are among the most blatant violations of meritocratic ideals. Yet neither Trump’s executive orders nor the broader political discourse dare to address them.

Legacy admissions are a quiet but powerful engine of privilege, disproportionately benefiting white, wealthy students and preserving generational inequality. At institutions like Harvard, Yale, and Princeton, legacy applicants are admitted at significantly higher rates than the general pool, even when controlling for academic credentials. This practice rewards lineage over talent and undermines the very idea of equal opportunity that higher education claims to uphold.

Despite bipartisan rhetoric about fairness and access, few politicians—Democratic or Republican—have challenged the legitimacy of legacy preferences. It’s a testament to how deeply intertwined elite institutions are with the political and economic establishment. And it’s a reminder that the war on higher education is not about fixing inequalities—it’s about reshaping the system to serve different masters.

A Hypocritical Power Grab

Trump’s newfound concern with educational “results” is laced with hypocrisy. The former president’s own venture into higher education—Trump University—was a grift that ended in legal disgrace and financial restitution to defrauded students. Now, Trump is posing as the savior of academic merit, while promoting an ideologically-driven overhaul of the very system that allowed scams like his to thrive.

By focusing on elite universities, Trump exploits populist resentment while ignoring the real scandal: that billions in public funds are siphoned off by institutions with poor student outcomes and high loan default rates—many of them protected by the very accrediting agencies he now claims to reform.

Conclusion: Political Theater, Not Policy

Trump's latest actions are not reforms—they're retribution. His executive orders target symbolic elites, not systemic rot. They turn accreditation into a partisan tool while leaving the worst actors untouched—or even empowered.

Meanwhile, elite institutions like Harvard remain complicit in maintaining a class hierarchy that benefits the powerful, even as they protest their innocence in today’s political battles.

Real accountability in higher education would mean cracking down on predatory schools, reforming or replacing failed accreditors, and restoring rigorous federal oversight. But this administration isn't interested in cleaning up the swamp—it’s repurposing the muck for its own ends.

The Higher Education Inquirer remains committed to pulling back the curtain on these abuses—no matter where they come from or how well they are disguised.

Friday, January 3, 2025

Higher Education Must Champion Democracy, Not Surrender to Fascism (Henry Giroux)

[Editor's note: This article by Henry Giroux first appeared in Truthout.]

Critical education must become a key organizing principle to defeat the emerging authoritarianism in the US. 

For decades, neoliberalism has systematically attacked the welfare state, undermined public institutions and weakened the foundations of collective well-being. Shrouded in the alluring language of liberty, it transforms market principles into a dominant creed, insisting that every facet of life conform to the imperatives of profit and economic efficiency.

But in reality, neoliberalism consolidates wealth in the hands of a financial elite, celebrates ruthless individualism, promotes staggering levels of inequality, perpetuates systemic injustices like racism and militarism, and commodifies everything, leaving nothing sacred or untouchable. Neoliberalism operates as a relentless engine of capitalist accumulation, driven by an insatiable pursuit of unchecked growth and the ruthless concentration of wealth and power within the hands of a ruling elite. At its core, it’s a pedagogy of repression: crushing justice, solidarity and care while deriding critical education and destroying the very tools that empower citizens to resist domination and reclaim the promise of democracy.

As neoliberalism collapses into authoritarianism, its machinery of repression intensifies. Dissent is silenced, social life militarized and hate normalized. This fuels a fascistic politics which is systematically dismantling democratic accountability, with higher education among its primary targets. For years, the far right has sought to undermine education, recognizing it as a powerful site of resistance. This has only accelerated, as MAGA movement adherents seek to eliminate the public education threat to their authoritarian goals.

Vice President-elect J.D. Vance openly declared “the professors are the enemy.” President-elect Donald Trump has stated that “pink-haired communists [are] teaching our kids.” In response to the Black Lives Matter protests following George Floyd’s killing, MAGA politicians like Sen. Tom Cotton openly called for deploying military force against demonstrators.  

The authoritarian spirit driving this party is crystallized in the words of right-wing activist Jack Posobiec, who, at the 2023 Conservative Political Action Conference, said: “We are here to overthrow democracy completely. We didn’t get all the way there on January 6, but we will. After we burn that swamp to the ground, we will establish the new American republic on its ashes.” This is more than anti-democratic, authoritarian rhetoric. It also shapes poisonous policies in which education is transformed into an animating space of repression and violence, and becomes weaponized as a tool of censorship, conformity and discrimination. 

As authoritarianism surges globally, democracy is being dismantled. What does this rise in illiberal regimes mean for higher education? What is the role of universities in defending democratic ideals when the very notion of democracy is under siege? In Trump’s United States, silence is complicity, and inaction a moral failing. Higher education must reassert itself as a crucial democratic public sphere that fosters critical thought, resists tyranny and nurtures the kind of informed citizens necessary to a just society.

Trump’s return to the presidency marks the endpoint of a deeply corrupt system, one that thrives on anti-intellectualism, scorn for science and contempt for reason. In this political climate, corruption, racism and hatred have transformed into a spectacle of fear, division and relentless disinformation, supplanting any notion of shared responsibility or collective purpose. In such a degraded environment, democracy becomes a hollowed-out version of itself, stripped of its legitimacy, ideals and promises. When democracy loses its moral and aspirational appeal, it opens the door for autocrats like Trump to dismantle the very institutions vital to preserving democratic life.

The failure of civic culture, education and literacy is starkly evident in the Trump administration’s success at emptying language of meaning — a flight from historical memory, ethics, justice and social responsibility. Communication has devolved into exaggerated political rhetoric and shallow public relations, replacing reason and evidence with spectacle and demagoguery. Thinking is scorned as dangerous, and news often serves as an amplifier for power rather than a check on it.

Corporate media outlets, driven by profits and ratings, align themselves with Trump’s dis-imagination machine, perpetuating a culture of celebrity worship and reality-TV sensationalism. In this climate, the institutions essential to a vibrant civil society are eroding, leaving us to ask: What kind of democracy can survive when the foundations of the social fabric are collapsing? Among these institutions, the mainstream media — a cornerstone of the fourth estate — have been particularly compromised. As Heather McGhee notes, the right-wing media has, over three decades, orchestrated “a radical takeover of our information ecosystem.”

Universities’ Neoliberal Audit Culture

As public-sector support fades, many institutions of higher education have been forced to mirror the private sector, turning knowledge into a commodity and eliminating departments and courses that don’t align with the market’s bottom line. Faculty are increasingly treated like low-wage workers, with labor relations designed to minimize costs and maximize servility. In this climate, power is concentrated in the hands of a managerial class that views education through a market-driven lens, reducing both governance and teaching to mere instruments of economic need. Democratic and creative visions, along with ethical imagination, give way to calls for efficiency, financial gain and conformity.

This neoliberal model not only undermines faculty autonomy but also views students as mere consumers, while saddling them with exorbitant tuition fees and a precarious future shaped by economic instability and ecological crisis. In abandoning its democratic mission, higher education fixates on narrow notions of job-readiness and cost-efficiency, forsaking its broader social and moral responsibilities. Stripped of any values beyond self-interest, institutions retreat from fostering critical citizenship and collective well-being.

Pedagogy, in turn, is drained of its critical content and transformative potential. This shift embodies what Cris Shore and Susan Wright term an “audit culture” — a corporate-driven ethos that depoliticizes knowledge, faculty and students by prioritizing performance metrics, measurable outputs and rigid individual accountability over genuine intellectual and social engagement.

In this process, higher education relinquishes its role as a democratic public sphere, shifting its mission from cultivating engaged citizens to molding passive consumers. This transformation fosters a generation of self-serving individuals, disconnected from the values of solidarity and justice, and indifferent to the creeping rise of authoritarianism.

The suppression of student dissent on campuses this year, particularly among those advocating for Palestinian rights and freedom, highlights this alarming trend. Universities increasingly prioritize conformity and corporate interests, punishing critical thinking and democratic engagement in the process. These developments lay the groundwork for a future shaped not by collective action and social equity, but by privatization, apathy and the encroachment of fascist politics.

Education, once the bedrock of civic engagement, has become a casualty in the age of Trump, where civic illiteracy is celebrated as both virtue and spectacle. In a culture dominated by information overload, celebrity worship and a cutthroat survival ethic, anti-intellectualism thrives as a political weapon, eroding language, meaning and critical thought. Ignorance is no longer passive — it is weaponized, fostering a false solidarity among those who reject democracy and scorn reason. This is not innocent ignorance but a calculated refusal to think critically, a deliberate rejection of language’s role in the pursuit of justice. For the ruling elite and the modern Republican Party, critical thinking is vilified as a threat to power, while willful ignorance is elevated to a badge of honor.

If we are to defeat the emerging authoritarianism in the U.S., critical education must become a key organizing principle of politics. In part, this can be done by exposing and unraveling lies, systems of oppression, and corrupt relations of power while making clear that an alternative future is possible. The language of critical pedagogy can powerfully condemn untruths and injustices.

History’s Emancipating Potential

A central goal of critical pedagogy is to cultivate historical awareness, equipping students to use history as a vital lens for understanding the present. Through the critical act of remembrance, the history of fascism can be illuminated not as a relic of the past but as a persistent threat, its dormant traces capable of reawakening even in the most robust democracies. In this sense, history must retain its subversive function — drawing on archives, historical sources, and suppressed narratives to challenge conventional wisdom and dominant ideologies.

The subversive power of history lies in its ability to challenge dominant narratives and expose uncomfortable truths — precisely why it has become a prime target for right-wing forces determined to rewrite or erase it. From banning books and whitewashing historic injustices like slavery to punishing educators who address pressing social issues, the assault on history is a calculated effort to suppress critical thinking and maintain control. Such assaults on historical memory represent a broader attempt to silence history’s emancipatory potential, rendering critical pedagogy an even more urgent and essential practice in resisting authoritarian forces. These assaults represent both a cleansing of history and what historian Timothy Snyder calls “anticipatory obedience,” which he labels as behavior individuals adopt in the service of emerging authoritarian regimes.

he fight against a growing fascist politics around the world is more than a struggle over power, it is also a struggle to reclaim historical memory. Any fight for a radical democratic socialist future is doomed if we fail to draw transformative lessons from the darkest chapters of our history, using them to forge meaningful resolutions and pathways toward a post-capitalist society. This is especially true at a time when the idea of who should be a citizen has become less inclusive, fueled by toxic religious and white supremacist ideology.

Consciousness-Shifting Pedagogy

One of the challenges facing today’s educators, students and others is the need to address the question of what education should accomplish in a historical moment when it is slipping into authoritarianism. In a world in which there is an increasing abandonment of egalitarian and democratic impulses, what will it take to educate young people and the broader polity to hold power accountable?

In part, this suggests developing educational policies and practices that not only inspire and motivate people but are also capable of challenging the growing number of anti-democratic tendencies under the global tyranny of capitalism. Such a vision of education can move the field beyond its obsession with accountability schemes, market values, and unreflective immersion in the crude empiricism of a data-obsessed, market-driven society. It can also confront the growing assault on education, where right-wing forces seek to turn universities into tools of ideological tyranny — arenas of pedagogical violence and white Christian indoctrination.

Any meaningful vision of critical pedagogy must have the power to provoke a radical shift in consciousness — a shift that helps us see the world through a lens that confronts the savage realities of genocidal violence, mass poverty, the destruction of the planet and the threat of nuclear war, among other issues. A true shift in consciousness is not possible without pedagogical interventions that speak directly to people in ways that resonate with their lives, struggles and experiences. Education must help individuals recognize themselves in the issues at hand, understanding how their personal suffering is not an isolated event, but part of a systemic crisis. In addition, activism, debate and engagement should be central to a student’s education.

n other words, there can be no authentic politics without a pedagogy of identification — an education that connects people to the broader forces shaping their lives, an education that helps them imagine and fight for a world where they are active agents of change.

The poet Jorie Graham emphasizes the importance of engaging people through experiences that resonate deeply with their everyday lives. She states that “it takes a visceral connection to experience itself to permit us to even undergo an experience.” Without this approach, pedagogy risks reinforcing a broader culture engrossed in screens and oversimplifications. In such a context, teaching can quickly transform into inaccessible jargon that alienates rather than educates.

Resisting Educational “Neutrality”

In the current historical moment, education cannot surrender to the call of academics who now claim in the age of Trump that there is no room for politics in the classroom, or the increasing claim by administrators that universities have a responsibility to remain neutral. This position is not only deeply flawed but also complicit in its silence over the current far right politicization of education.

The call for neutrality in many North American universities is a retreat from social and moral responsibility, masking the reality that these institutions are deeply embedded in power relations. As Heidi Matthews, Fatima Ahdash and Priya Gupta aptly argue, neutrality “serves to flatten politics and silence scholarly debate,” obscuring the inherently political nature of university life. From decisions about enrollment and research funding to event policies and poster placements, every administrative choice reflects a political stance. Far from apolitical, neutrality is a tool that silences dissent and shields power from accountability.

It is worth repeating that the most powerful forms of education today extend far beyond public and higher education. With the rise of new technologies, power structures and social media, culture itself has become a tool of propaganda. Right-wing media, conservative foundations, and a culture dominated by violence and reality TV created the fertile ground for the rise of Trump and his continued legitimacy. Propaganda machines like Fox News have fostered an anti-intellectual climate, normalizing Trump’s bigotry, lies, racism and history of abuse. This is not just a political failure — it is an educational crisis.

In the age of new media, platforms like Elon Musk’s X and tech giants like Facebook, Netflix and Google have become powerful teaching machines, actively serving the far right and promoting the values of gangster capitalism. These companies are reshaping education, turning it into a training ground for workers who align with their entrepreneurial vision or, even more dangerously, perpetuating a theocratic, ultra-nationalist agenda that views people of color and marginalized groups as threats. This vision of education must be rejected in the strongest terms, for it erodes both democracy and the very purpose of education itself. 

Education as Mass Mobilization

Education, in its truest sense, must be about more than training students to be workers or indoctrinating them into a white Christian nationalist view of who does and doesn’t count as American. Education should foster intellectual rigor and critical thinking, empowering students to interrogate their experiences and aspirations while equipping them with the agency to act with informed judgment. It must be a bold and supportive space where student voices are valued and engaged with pressing social and political issues, cultivating a commitment to justice, equality and freedom. In too many classrooms in the U.S., there are efforts to make students voiceless, which amounts to making them powerless. This must be challenged and avoided at all times.

Critical pedagogy must expose the false equivalence of capitalism and democracy, emphasizing that resisting fascism requires challenging capitalism. To be transformative, it should embrace anti-capitalist principles, champion radical democracy and envision political alternatives beyond conventional ideologies.

In the face of growing attacks on higher education, educators must reclaim their role in shaping futures, advancing a vision of education as integral to the struggle for democracy. This vision rejects the neoliberal framing of education as a private investment and instead embraces a critical pedagogy as a practice of freedom that disrupts complacency, fosters critical engagement, and empowers students to confront the forces shaping their lives.

In an age of resurgent fascism, education must do more than defend reason and critical judgment — it must also mobilize widespread, organized collective resistance. A number of youth movements, from Black Lives Matter and the Sunrise Movement to Fridays for Future and March for Our Lives, are mobilizing in this direction. The challenge here is to bring these movements together into one multiracial, working-class organization.

The struggle for a radical democracy must be anchored in the complexities of our time — not as a fleeting sentiment but as an active, transformative project. Democracy is not simply voting, nor is it the sum of capitalist values and market relations. It is an ideal and promise — a vision of a future that does not imitate the present; it is the lifeblood of resistance, struggle, and the ongoing merging of justice, ethics and freedom.

In a society where democracy is under siege, educators must recognize that alternative futures are not only possible but that acting on this belief is essential to achieving social change.

The global rise of fascism casts a long shadow, marked by state violence, silenced dissent and the assault on critical thought. Yet history is not a closed book — it is a call to action, a space for possibility. Now, more than ever, we must dare to think boldly, act courageously, and forge the democratic futures that justice demands and humanity deserves.