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

2U-edX crash exposes the latest wave of edugrift

2U, a Lanham, Maryland-based edtech company and parent company edX, is facing layoffs of an estimated 200 to 400 workers--a significant number for a company that only employs a few thousand--amid more rumors that the company is for sale. While the pain of their firings may be consequential for those who are experiencing it, the pain of those the company has damaged, mostly striving middle-class consumers and their families, may be worse.  

2U's problems are not new. The Higher Education Inquirer first reported on the beginning of company's meltdown in October 2019.  In July 2022, 2U announced layoffs as it changed its business model (again) and the US Department of Education scrutinized the company's grad school offerings.

2U began in 2008 as an online program manager (OPM), one of a few companies offering edtech services that required large amounts of capital and labor costs. They expanded through the acquisition of other edtech firms, Trilogy Education Services (2019) and edX (2021).  edX is an education platform that was created by Harvard and MIT as a massive open online course (MOOC) platform, but as part of 2U now concentrates on selling a number of elite and brand name tech bootcamps.

In 2022 and 2023, the Wall Street Journal (Lisa Bannon), Chronicle of Higher Education (Mike Vasquez), and USA Today (Chris Quintana) investigated 2U after a few US senators sounded the alarm about consumers being fleeced by 2U and other OPMs. 

With 2U's reputation in shambles and layoffs ahead, the parent company wrapped itself around the more respectable edX brand. Bjju's, an Indian edtech firm, was said to be looking at 2U or Chegg as a possible acquisition (Byju's is now facing its own problems).  

Concentrating on growth for years, then acquisition, then consolidation and rebranding, 2U has never generated an annual profit--and that trend doesn't appear to be changing. 

Earlier this year we listed 2U, Chegg, Coursera, and Guild Education as part of the EdTech Meltdown. 

Unlike the prior wave of for-profit college failures of Corinthian Colleges, ITT Tech, Education Management Corporation, and others that hurt working-class student debtors, 2U has collaborated with elite universities, targeting mostly middle-class folks for advanced degrees and certificates with elite brand names such as USC and UC Berkeley. Credentials that frequently are not worth the debt. Credentials that often did not lead to better paying jobs. Credentials that burden (and sometimes crush) consumers financially with private loans from Sallie Mae and others.

edX's website advertises coding, data analytics, cybersecurity, and AI bootcamps from a number of name brands: Ohio State University, Columbia University, University of Texas, Harvard University, Michigan State University, University of Denver, Southern Methodist University, University of Minnesota, University of Central Florida, Arizona State University, Northwestern University, Rice University, the University of North Carolina, and UC-Irvine.   

• Ohio State University AI Bootcamp $11,745
  
• University of Texas Coding Bootcamp $12,495
• Berkeley Extension Coding Bootcamp $13,495
• University of Pennsylvania Cybersecurity Bootcamp $13,995
  
• Columbia University Data Analytics Bootcamp $14,745 

It's not clear how well managed the programs are and how much these schools are involved in instruction and career guidance.  However, edX claims that with their bootcamp certificates, graduates will "gain  access to more than 260 employers--including half of the Fortune 100--seeking skilled bootcamp graduates." 

While the targets of for-profit colleges and 2U may have been different, their approaches were similar: sell a dream to consumers that often does not materialize. Spend tens of millions on targeted (and sometimes misleading) advertising and enrollment. Keep the confidence game going as long as it will last. But that may not be much longer.

In April 2023, 2U filed a lawsuit against the US Department of Education to avoid further government oversight. A familiar defensive strategy in the for-profit college business.

There is much we don't know about how significant the damage has been to those who bought the 2U story and spent tens of thousands on elite degrees and certificates, but it must be significant. Most US families do not have that kind of money to spend on something that doesn't result in financial gains.  

Recent reviews of edX on TrustPilot have been scathing. And social media have been brutal on 2U, Trilogy, and EdX. Reddit, for example, has posts like "The dirty truth about edX/Trilogy Boot Camps." In a more recent post about edX, there was a flurry of negative reviews.

In 2016, we wrote "When college choice is a fraud." At that time we were focusing on the tough choices that working-class people have deciding between their local community college or a for-profit career school. Little did we know that the education business was already moving its way up the food chain and that edtech companies like 2U would be engaging in the latest form of edugrift. 

Related link:

2U Virus Expands College Meltdown to Elite Universities (2019)

Buyer Beware: Servicemembers, Veterans, and Families Need to Be On Guard with College and Career Choices (2021)

College Meltdown 2.1 (2022)

EdTech Meltdown (2023)  

Erica Gallagher Speaks Out About 2U's Shady Practices at Department of Education Virtual Listening Meeting (2023)

"Edugrift" by J.D. Suenram (2020)

When college choice is a fraud (2016)

The Reality of Higher Ed Fraud in 2025

"Fraudsters are like cockroaches"--Anonymous higher education businessman

Fraudsters are like cockroaches: persistent, hard to eliminate, and always scurrying just beneath the surface. And like cockroaches, when you see one, you can assume many more are hidden from view. In the vast, sprawling ecosystem of US higher education—a multi-trillion-dollar industry built on trust, hope, and credentials—fraud has been a lurking presence for more than a century. From diploma mills to for-profit scams, grade inflation to financial aid abuse, deceit has found fertile ground wherever oversight is weak and incentives are perverse.

The Gilded Roots of Fraud

Fraud in American higher education didn’t begin with Trump University or Corinthian Colleges. The roots go back to the 19th century, when the proliferation of unregulated “colleges” allowed opportunists to sell degrees to anyone willing to pay. These early diploma mills, often run by religious organizations or independent operators, flourished in an era before accreditation, issuing worthless credentials that nevertheless offered the illusion of legitimacy.

By the early 20th century, regional accreditation and federal involvement began to tame the worst actors, but fraud adapted. Unethical schools learned how to mimic the symbols of respectability, while federal dollars—including GI Bill money and later Pell Grants and federal student loans—provided irresistible bait.

For-Profit Colleges and the Federal ATM

The rise of for-profit higher education in the post-WWII era, especially from the 1970s onward, signaled a new chapter in educational fraud. Companies like ITT Technical Institute, Corinthian Colleges, and Education Management Corporation were publicly traded entities or private equity darlings that mastered the art of siphoning billions in taxpayer dollars while leaving students with worthless credentials and mountains of debt.

The fraud wasn’t always overt—it often came wrapped in slick marketing, predatory recruiting, falsified job placement statistics, and pressure to enroll students regardless of academic readiness. These institutions gamed federal financial aid systems, manipulating default rates and exploiting regulatory loopholes.

Even when regulators like the GAO or the Department of Education uncovered misconduct, enforcement was sporadic and too often came after the damage was done. In many cases, executives walked away with millions, while students—often from low-income, Black, Latino, and veteran communities—were left in financial ruin.

Accreditation as a Shield

One of the most confounding aspects of US higher ed fraud is the role of accreditors. Supposed to act as gatekeepers, many regional and national accreditors have served more as enablers—either asleep at the wheel or financially incentivized to look the other way. When accreditors are funded by the very institutions they review, conflict of interest becomes systemic.

This has allowed weak or outright fraudulent institutions to hide behind the veneer of legitimacy. Some accreditors, like ACICS (Accrediting Council for Independent Colleges and Schools), became infamous for rubber-stamping schools that should have been shuttered. ACICS accredited both ITT Tech and Corinthian before its federal recognition was finally revoked in 2022.

The New Wave: Online and AI-Enabled Scams

The digital age has added new dimensions to academic fraud. Online colleges like University of Phoenix, Ashford University (now University of Arizona Global Campus), and Western Governors University have raised concerns about low faculty oversight, cookie-cutter instruction, and questions about academic rigor. While not all online institutions are fraudulent, the modality makes it easier to scale shady practices and reduce accountability.

Now, with generative AI entering the classroom and enrollment systems, new questions emerge: How do we ensure academic honesty in an age of algorithmic ghostwriting? How will fraud evolve as institutions increasingly rely on automated admissions, grading, and content delivery?

And it's not just schools. Consultants, influencers, and shady loan servicers feed off the system like parasites—promising student loan relief, admissions guarantees, or academic success for a fee. In this ecosystem, fraud doesn't just survive—it thrives.

When the Roaches Scatter

Occasionally, the light shines in. Whistleblowers, investigative journalists, and government agencies have at times forced fraudsters into the open. Lawsuits have led to settlements. Schools have closed. Presidents have resigned. But like cockroaches, the fraud rarely disappears—it relocates, rebrands, and reinvents itself.

Even with borrower defense to repayment, loan forgiveness programs, and federal oversight mechanisms, restitution often comes too late. And public memory is short. Fraudulent operators have learned how to outlast administrations, court cases, and media cycles.

A Call to Radical Transparency

The Higher Education Inquirer has long called for radical transparency in US higher education. That means open data on outcomes, federal aid, loan default rates, salaries of top administrators, and accreditor performance. It means holding college leaders and board members accountable for failures—not rewarding them with golden parachutes or public pensions.

Fraud may be a permanent feature of capitalist education systems, but its impact can be minimized with independent media scrutiny, better whistleblower protections, and public investment that prioritizes students—not shareholders.

Because fraudsters are like cockroaches. You may never kill them all, but you can make the kitchen a whole lot harder to live in.

Credential Inflation Makes College Degree Not Worth The Cost (Randall Collins)

[Editor's note: This article first appeared in Randall Collins' blog The Sociological Eye.]

Belief in the value of college education was sacrosanct throughout most of the 20th century. In the early 2000s, the question began to be raised whether the payoff in terms of a better-paying job was worth the cost. For several generations, almost a taboo topic--but once out in the open, an increasing percentage of the US population has concluded a college degree is not worth it.

The first big hit was the 2008 recession, when graduates found it hard to get jobs. But even as the economy recovered and grew, faith in college degrees has steadily declined.

In 2013, 53% of the population—a slim majority, agreed that a 4-year degree gives “a better chance to get a good job and earn more income over their lifetime.” In 2023, education-believers had fallen to 42%, while 56% said it was not worth the cost. Both women and men had turned negative in the latest survey—even though women had overtaken men in college enrollments in previous decades. The youngest generation was the most negative, 60% of those aged 18-34. Not surprisingly; they are the ones who had to apply to dozens of schools, a rat-race of test scores, scrambling for grades, and amassing extra-curricular activities; most not getting into their school of choice, while paying constantly rising tuition and fees, and burdened with student-loan debt into middle age. Not to mention the near-impossibility of buying a house at hugely inflated prices, many still living with their parents; while all generations now agree that the younger will not enjoy the standard of living of their parents.

The only demographic that still thinks college has career value are men with a college degree or higher, who earn over $100,000 a year. They are the only winners in the tournament. Every level of education—high school, junior college, 4-year college, M.B.A. or PhD or professional credential in law, medicine, etc.—has value as an entry ticket to the next level of competition for credentials. The financial payoff comes when you get to the big time, the Final Four so to speak; striving through the lower levels is motivated by a combination of American cultural habits and wishful thinking.

The boom-or-bust pattern of rising education makes more sense in long-term perspective. For 100 years, the USA has led the world in the proportion of the population in schools at all levels. In 1900, 6% of the youth cohort finished high school, and less than 2% had a college degree. High school started taking off in the 1920s, and after a big push in the 1950s to keep kids in school, reached 77% in 1970. Like passing the baton, as high school became commonplace, college attendance rocketed, jumping to 53% at the end of the 1960s—there was a reason for all those student protests of the Sixties: they were suddenly a big slice of the American population. By 2017, 30% over age 24 had a college degree; another 27% had some years of college. It has been a long-time pattern that only about half of all college students finish their degree—dropping out of college has always been prevalent, and still is.

The growing number of students at all levels has been a process of credential inflation. The value of any particular diploma—high school, college, M.A., PhD—is not constant; it depends on the labor market at the time, the amount of competition from others who have the same degree. In the 1930s, only 12% of employers required a college degree for managers; by the late 1960s, it was up to 40%. By the 1990s, an M.B.A. was the preferred degree for managerial employment; and even police departments were hiring college-educated cops. In other words, as college attendance has become almost as common as high school, it no longer conveys much social status. To get ahead in the elite labor market, one needs advanced and specialized degrees. In the medical professions, the process of credential-seeking goes on past age 30; for scientists, a PhD needs to be supplemented by a couple of years in a post-doctoral fellowship, doing grunt-work in somebody else’s laboratory. In principle, credential inflation has no end in sight.

An educational diploma is like money: a piece of paper whose value depends inversely on how much of it is in circulation. In the monetary world, printing more money reduces its purchasing power. The same thing happens with turning out more educational credentials—with one important difference. Printing money is relatively cheap (and so is the equivalent process of changing banking policies so that more credit is issued). But minting a college degree is expensive: someone has to pay for the teachers, the administrators, the buildings, and whatever entertainments and luxuries (such as sports and student activities) the school offers—and which make up a big part of its attraction for American students. And all this degree-printing apparatus has been becoming more expensive over the decades, far outpacing the amount of monetary inflation since the 1980s. Colleges and universities (as well as high schools and elementary schools) keep increasing the proportion of administrators and staff. At the top end of the college market, the professors who give the school its reputation by their research command top salaries.

Credential-minting institutions have been able to charge whatever they can get away with, because of the high level of competition among students for admission. Not all families can afford it; but enough of them can so that schools can charge many multiples of what they charged (in constant dollars) even 30 years ago. The result has been a huge expansion in student debt: averaging $38,000 among 45 million borrowers; and including 70% of all holders of B.A. degrees. Total student debt tripled between 2007 and 2022.

These three different kinds of inflation reinforce each other: inflation in the amount of credential currency chasing jobs in the job market; inflation in the cost of getting a degree; inflation in student debt. We could add grade inflation as a fourth part of the spiral: intensifying pressure to get into college and if possible beyond, has motivated students to put pressure on their teachers to grade more easily; in public schools, to pass them along to the next grade no matter their performance (retardation in grade, which in the 1900s was common, has virtually disappeared); in college, GPA-striving has a similar effect. Grades are higher than ever but the measured value of the contents of education, ranging from writing skills to how long the course material is remembered after the course is over is low (Arum and Roksa 2011, 2014). College degrees are not only inflated as to job-purchasing power; they are also inflated as a measure of what skills they actually represent.

The remedies suggested for some of these problems--- such as canceling student debt by government action—would temporarily relieve some ex-students of the burden of paying for not-so-valuable degrees. But canceling student debt would not solve the underlying dynamic of credential inflation, but exacerbate it. If college education became free (either by government directly picking up the tab; or by canceling student debts), we can expect even more students to seek higher degrees. If 100% of the population has a college degree, its advantage on the labor market is exactly zero; you would have to get some further degree to get a competitive edge.

Scandals in college admissions are just one more sign of the pressures corroding the value of education. College employees collude with wealthy parents to create fake athletic skills, in a time when students apply to dozens of schools, and even top grades don’t guarantee admission. Since athletics are a big part of schools’ prestige, and are considered a legitimate pathway to admission outside the grade-inflation tournament, it is hardly surprising that some try that side-door entry. There is not only grade inflation, but inflation in competition over the pseudo-credentials of extracurricular activites and community service. Efforts at increasing race and class equity in admissions increase the pressure among the affluent and the non-minority populations. Since sociological evidence shows that tests and grades favour children of the higher classes (whose families provide them with what Bourdieu called cultural capital), there are moves to eliminate test scores and/or grades as criteria of admission. What is left may be letters of recommendation and self-extolling essays--- what we might call “rhetorical inflation”, plus skin color or other demographic markers; but the result will do nothing to reduce the inflation of credentials. The underlying hope is that giving everybody a college degree will somehow bring about social equality. In reality, it will just add another chapter to the history of credential inflation.

Except for the small percentage of really good students who will take the tournament all the way to the most advanced degrees and become well-paid scientists and professionals, the growing disillusionment with the value of college degrees will result in more and more people looking for alternative routes to making a living. The big fortunes of the last 40 years--- the age of information technology—have been made by entrepreneurs who dropped out to pursue opportunities just opening up, instead of waiting to finish a degree. The path to fame and fortune is not monopolized by the education tournament. For the rest of us, finding more immediate ways of making a living (or living off someone else) will become more important.

P.S. The advent of Artificial Intelligence to write students’ papers, and other AI to grade them (not to mention to write their application essays and read them for admission) will do nothing to raise the honesty and status of the educational credential chase.

References

“More Say Colleges Aren’t Worth the Cost.” Wall Street Journal April 1, 2023 (NORC-Wall St. Journal survey)

Average Student Loan Debt (BestColleges.com) 

U.S. Bureau of the Census

Randall Collins. 2019. The Credential Society. 2nd edition. Columbia Univ. Press.

Richard Arum and Josipa Roksa. 2011. Academically Adrift: Limited Learning on College Campuses. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Richard Arum and Josipa Roksa. 2014. Aspiring Adults Adrift: Tentative Transitions of College Graduates. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.

Degrees of Discontent: Credentialism, Inflation, and the Global Education Crisis

In an era defined by rapid technological change, globalization, and economic precarity, the promise of higher education as a reliable path to social mobility is being questioned around the world. At the heart of this reckoning are two interrelated forces: credentialism and credential inflation. Together, they have helped fuel a crisis of discontent that spans continents, demographics, and generations.

The Age of Credentialism

Credentialism refers to the increasing reliance on educational qualifications—often formal degrees or certificates—as a measure of skill, value, and worth in the labor market. What was once a gateway to opportunity has, for many, become a gatekeeper.

In countries as diverse as the United States, Nigeria, South Korea, and Brazil, employers increasingly demand college degrees for jobs that previously required only a high school diploma or no formal education at all. These “degree requirements” often serve more as filters than as real indicators of competence. In the U.S., for example, nearly two-thirds of new jobs require a college degree, yet only around 38% of the adult population holds one. This creates a built-in exclusionary mechanism that hits working-class, first-generation, and minority populations hardest.

Credential Inflation: The Diminishing Value of Degrees

As more people earn degrees in hopes of improving their employment prospects, the relative value of those credentials declines—a phenomenon known as credential inflation. Where a bachelor’s degree once opened doors to managerial or professional roles, it now often leads to underemployment or precarious gig work. In response, students seek advanced degrees, fueling a “credential arms race” with diminishing returns.

In India and China, massive expansions of higher education have led to millions of graduates chasing a finite number of white-collar jobs. In places like Egypt, university graduates have higher unemployment rates than those with only a secondary education. In South Korea, a hyper-competitive education culture pushes students through years of tutoring and testing, only to graduate into a job market with limited high-status roles.

Tragedy in Tunisia: The Human Cost of Unemployment

Few stories illustrate the devastating impact of credentialism and mass youth unemployment more than that of Mohammed Bouazizi, a 26-year-old Tunisian university graduate whose life and death sparked a revolution.

Unable to find formal employment, Bouazizi resorted to selling fruit and vegetables illegally in the town of Sidi Bouzid. In December 2010, after police confiscated his produce for lacking a permit, he set himself on fire in front of a local government building in a final act of desperation.

Bouazizi succumbed to his injuries weeks later, but not before igniting a firestorm of protests across Tunisia. His self-immolation became the catalyst for mass demonstrations against economic injustice, corruption, and authoritarianism—culminating in the Tunisian Revolution and inspiring uprisings throughout the Arab world.

At his funeral, an estimated 5,000 mourners marched, chanting: “Farewell, Mohammed, we will avenge you.” Bouazizi’s uncle said, “Mohammed gave his life to draw attention to his condition and that of his brothers.”

His act was not just a protest against police abuse, but a powerful indictment of a system that had produced thousands of educated but unemployed young people, whose degrees had become symbols of broken promises.

Global Discontent and Backlash

This dynamic of broken promises and rising discontent is global. In China, the “lying flat” movement reflects a rejection of endless striving in a system that offers diminishing returns on educational achievement. In South Korea, the “N-po” generation has opted out of traditional life goals, seeing little reward for their academic sacrifices.

In the U.S., distrust in higher education is mounting, with many questioning whether the cost of a degree is worth it. At the same time, a growing number of companies are dropping degree requirements altogether in favor of skills-based hiring.

Yet these moves often come too late for millions already trapped in a debt-fueled system, forced to chase credentials just to qualify for basic employment.

The Future of Work, the Future of Education

As automation and AI disrupt industries, the link between formal education and stable employment continues to fray. Policymakers call for "lifelong learning" and “upskilling,” but these strategies often place the burden back on workers without addressing the deeper failures of economic and educational systems.

To move forward, we must consider:

• Decoupling jobs from unnecessary credential requirements

• Investing in vocational and technical education with real career pathways

• Recognizing nontraditional forms of knowledge and skill

• Reframing education as a public good, not a consumer transaction

Reclaiming the Meaning of Education

Mohammed Bouazizi's story is a tragic reminder that the crisis of credentialism is not theoretical—it’s lived, felt, and fought over in the streets. Around the world, millions of young people feel abandoned by systems that promised opportunity but delivered anxiety, debt, and instability.

Unless global societies reimagine the relationship between education, work, and human dignity, the "degrees of discontent" will only continue to deepen. And as Bouazizi’s legacy shows, discontent—when ignored—can become revolutionary.

---

Sources and References

• BBC News. “Tunisia suicide protester Mohammed Bouazizi dies.” January 5, 2011. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-12120228

• Pew Research Center. “Public Trust in Higher Education is Eroding.” August 2023.

• Brown, Phillip. The Global Auction: The Broken Promises of Education, Jobs, and Incomes. Oxford University Press, 2011.

• Marginson, Simon. “The Worldwide Trend to High Participation Higher Education: Dynamics of Social Stratification in Inclusive Systems.” Higher Education, 2016.

• The World Bank. “Education and the Labor Market.”

• The Guardian. “Lying Flat: China's Youth Protest Culture Grows.” June 2021.

• Korea Herald. “'N-po Generation' Gives Up on Marriage, Children, and More.” October 2022.

Higher Education, Technology, and A Growing Social Anxiety

The Era We Are In

We are living in a neoliberal/libertarian era filled with technological change, emotional and behavioral change, and social change. An era resulting in alienation (disconnection/isolation) for the working class and anomie (lawlessness) among elites and those who serve them. We are simultaneously moving forward with technology and backward with human values and principles. Elites are reestablishing a more brutal world, hearkening back to previous centuries--a world the Higher Education Inquirer has been observing and documenting since 2016. No wonder folks of the working class and middle class are anxious. 

Manufactured College Mania

For years, authorities such as the New York Federal Reserve expressed the notion (or perhaps myth) that higher education was an imperative for young folks. They said that the wealth premium for college graduates was a million dollars over the course of a lifetime--ignoring the fact that a large percentage of people who started college never graduated--and that tens of millions of consumers and their families were drowning in student loan debt. 

2U, Guild Education, and a number of online robocolleges reflected the neoliberal promise of higher education and online technology to improve social mobility.  The mainstream media were largely complicit with these higher ed schemes. 

2U brought advanced degrees and certificates to the masses, using brand names such as Harvard, MIT, Yale, USC, University of North Carolina, and the University of Texas to promote the expensive credentials that did not work for many consumers. 

Guild Education brought educational opportunities to folks at Walmart, Target, Macy's and other Fortune 500 companies who would be replacing their workers with robotics, AI, and other technologies. But the educational opportunities were for credentials from subprime online schools like Purdue University Global. Few workers took the bait. 

As 2U files for bankruptcy, it leaves a number of debt holders holding the bag, including more than $500M to Wilmington Trust, and $30M to other vendors and clients, including Guild Education, and a number of elite universities. Guild Education is still alive, but like 2U, has had to fire a quarter of its workers, even downsizing its name to Guild, as investor money dries up. It continues to spend money on its image, as a Team USA sponsor.    

The online robocolleges (including Liberty University, Grand Canyon University, University of Phoenix, Purdue University Global, and University of Arizona Global)  brought adult education and hope to the masses, especially those who were underemployed. In many cases, it was false hope, as they also brought insurmountable student debt to American consumers. Billions and billions in debt that cannot be repaid, now considered toxic assets to the US government. 

Along the way there have been important detractors in popular culture, especially on the right. Conservative radio celebrity Dave Ramsey, railed against irresponsible folks carrying lots of debt, including student loan debt. He was not wrong, but he did not implicate those who preyed on student consumers. On the left, the Debt Collective also railed against student loan debt, long before the right, but they were often ignored or marginalized. 

Adapting to a Brutal System

The system  works for elites and some of those who serve them, but not for others, even some of the middle class. Good jobs once at the end of the education pipeline have been replaced by 12-hour shifts, 60 hour work weeks, bullsh*t jobs, and gig work. 

Working-class Americans are living shorter lives, lives in some cases made worse not so much by lack of education, but by the destruction of union jobs, and by social media, and other intended and unintended consequences of technology and neoliberalism. Millions of folks, working class and some middle class, who have invested in higher education and have overwhelming debt and fading job prospects, feel like they have been lied to.

We also have lives made more sedentary and solitary by technology. Lives made more hectic and less tolerable. Inequality making lives too easy for those with privilege and lives too difficult for the working class to manage. Lives managed by having fewer relationships and fewer children. Many smartly choosing not to bring children into this new world. All of this manufactured by technology and human greed.  

The College Dream is Over...for the Working Class

There are two competing messages about higher education: the first that college brings opportunity and wealth and the second, that higher education may bring debt and misery. The truth is, these different messages are meant for two groups: pushing brand name schools and student loans for the most ambitious middle class/working class and a lesser form of education for the struggling working class. 

In 2020, Gary Roth said that the college dream was over. Yet the socially manufactured college mania continues, flooding the internet with ads for college and college loans, as social realities point to a future with fewer good and meaningful jobs even for those with degrees. Higher education will continue to work for some, but should every consumer, especially among the struggling working class, believe the message is for them? 

Related links:

More than half of college grads are stuck in jobs that don't require degrees (msn.com)

AI-ROBOT CAPITALISTS WILL DESTROY THE HUMAN ECONOMY (Randall Collins)

Edtech Meltdown 

Guild Education: Enablers of Anti-Union Corporations and Subprime College Programs

2U Declares Chapter 11 Bankruptcy. Will Anyone Else Name All The Elite Universities That Were Complicit?

College Mania!: An Open Letter to the NY Fed (2019)

"Let's all pretend we couldn't see it coming": The US Working-Class Depression (2020)

The College Dream is Over (Gary Roth, 2020)

Chinese College Meltdown: Credential Inflation and the Crisis in Higher Education Employment

China's higher education system is facing a profound crisis, marked by rampant credential inflation, a saturated academic job market, and growing inequality between domestic and international degree holders. A recent study published in Humanities and Social Sciences Communications provides empirical evidence of these trends, drawing from an extensive dataset of nearly 160,000 faculty resumes across 802 Chinese universities.

The Rise of Credential Inflation

Credential inflation refers to the escalating academic qualifications required for positions that previously demanded less. In China, this phenomenon is particularly pronounced in elite institutions, especially those under the "Project 211" initiative. The study reveals that new faculty hires increasingly possess higher degrees and more publications than their predecessors, a trend driven by intensified competition and institutional prestige.

This inflationary pressure disproportionately affects domestically educated candidates. Despite holding advanced degrees, many find themselves overshadowed by peers with international qualifications, who are often favored for positions at top-tier universities. This preference underscores a systemic devaluation of domestic academic credentials.

Favoring International Degrees

The study highlights a growing bias towards candidates with overseas education. These individuals are not only more likely to secure positions at prestigious institutions but also benefit from a perception of superior academic training. This trend exacerbates existing inequalities and places additional pressure on domestic scholars to seek international credentials, often at significant personal and financial cost.

Broader Economic and Social Implications

The implications of credential inflation extend beyond academia. China's youth unemployment rate has soared above 20%, leaving many graduates underemployed or reliant on parental support . This disconnect between educational attainment and employment opportunities fuels social discontent and challenges the narrative of higher education as a pathway to upward mobility.

Furthermore, the emphasis on international degrees may contribute to a brain drain, as talented individuals seek education and employment opportunities abroad. This trend could undermine China's efforts to cultivate a robust domestic academic and research environment.

Navigating the Crisis

Addressing this multifaceted crisis requires systemic reforms. Policymakers and educational institutions must reevaluate hiring practices, placing greater value on diverse academic experiences and competencies. Investments in domestic graduate programs, coupled with initiatives to enhance the global competitiveness of Chinese degrees, are essential.

Moreover, aligning higher education outcomes with labor market needs can help mitigate unemployment and underemployment among graduates. By fostering partnerships between academia and industry, China can ensure that its educational system produces graduates equipped with relevant skills and experiences.

The phenomenon of credential inflation in Chinese higher education reflects deeper structural challenges within the country's academic and employment landscapes. Without targeted interventions, these trends threaten to erode the value of domestic education, exacerbate social inequalities, and hinder China's aspirations for global academic leadership.

For a comprehensive understanding of this issue, refer to the full study: "Credential inflation and employment of university faculty in China"

Tech Titans, Ideologues, and the Future of American Higher Education

American higher education is under pressure from within and without—squeezed by financial strain, declining enrollment, political hostility, and technological disruption. But the greatest challenge may be coming from a group of powerful outsiders—figures with deep influence in politics, technology, and media—who are actively reshaping how education is perceived, delivered, and valued. Among them: Donald Trump, Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, Sam Altman, Alex Karp, and Charlie Kirk. Each brings a different ideology and strategy, but their combined influence represents an existential threat to traditional colleges and universities.

Donald Trump’s second rise to power has included a full-spectrum attack on elite and public institutions of higher learning. From threats to strip funding from schools that promote diversity, equity, and inclusion, to freezing billions in research grants at elite institutions like Harvard, Trump has positioned universities as enemies in a broader cultural and political war. His proposed education policy emphasizes trade schools and short-term credentials over liberal arts and research, while his administration has floated revoking accreditation from institutions that resist his agenda. Rather than investing in public education, the Trump agenda calls for punishment, privatization, and obedience. And for institutions that don’t comply, there are growing threats of taxation, defunding, and public humiliation.

Elon Musk is undermining higher education in a different way. Musk has openly mocked the need for college degrees, suggesting that “you can learn anything online for free.” While that’s partly rhetoric, it’s also a blueprint for disruption. His experimental school Astra Nova already offers a glimpse into a post-institutional future—one that favors creative, independent thinking over traditional credentialing. Now, with plans to launch the Texas Institute of Technology & Science, Musk is betting that elite training can happen outside the bounds of accreditation and federal oversight. Musk’s future is technocratic and libertarian, with universities seen as bloated, slow-moving, and culturally out of touch.

Peter Thiel’s vision is even more radical. Thiel has compared American higher education to the Catholic Church before the Reformation—rich, corrupt, and intellectually bankrupt. His Thiel Fellowship pays young people to skip college entirely, offering $100,000 to start companies instead of accumulating debt. He argues that universities reward conformity and delay adulthood. For Thiel, colleges don’t just fail to prepare students—they actively mislead them. His endgame is a decentralized, market-driven system in which talent rises through initiative and capital, not credentials.

Sam Altman, CEO of OpenAI, presents yet another threat—this time from artificial intelligence. Altman doesn’t reject learning, but he does question the institutions that monopolize it. With tools like ChatGPT and future AI tutors, Altman envisions personalized, real-time learning for everyone, everywhere. In this model, universities risk becoming obsolete—not because they are wrong, but because they are too slow and too expensive. Altman has also pushed universities to take a more active role in shaping AI policy; if they don’t, the tech industry will do it for them. The message is clear: adapt or be replaced.

Alex Karp, CEO of Palantir, is building a new kind of corporate university. Through programs like the Palantir Meritocracy Fellowship and “Semester at Palantir,” Karp is recruiting students directly out of elite schools—particularly those disillusioned by what he sees as anti-Israel sentiment or campus censorship. These programs offer practical, high-paid experience that bypasses traditional academic pathways. Karp’s vision doesn’t require the elimination of universities—it just renders them unnecessary for the most competitive jobs in tech and intelligence. His model suggests a future in which corporations, not universities, decide who is qualified.

Charlie Kirk, founder of Turning Point USA, has weaponized the culture war to delegitimize higher education entirely. Kirk’s brand of activism portrays universities as corrupt, anti-American indoctrination centers. Through social media campaigns, donor networks, and student chapters, he has built an infrastructure of resistance against academic institutions. His goal isn’t reform—it’s replacement. Through efforts like the Freedom College Alliance, Kirk is helping to build a parallel educational system rooted in conservative Christian values, classical curricula, and ideological purity. In Kirk’s world, higher education isn’t broken—it’s the enemy.

Together, these six men are shaping a new, fragmented future for American education. Some want to burn it down. Some want to replace it. Some want to privatize it or profit from its collapse. What they share is a conviction that traditional universities no longer serve their intended purpose—and that a new model, rooted in tech, politics, or religion, must take its place.

This isn’t a theoretical debate. Universities are already responding—cutting liberal arts programs, racing to implement AI tools, rebranding themselves as career accelerators, and seeking favor with donors who increasingly resemble these disruptive outsiders. For those who resist, the future may include not just funding cuts, but political investigations, lawsuits, and public smear campaigns.

Higher education faces a stark choice. It can double down on its public mission—defending critical thinking, civic engagement, and social mobility—or it can retreat into elite credentialing and survival mode. What it cannot do is ignore the forces gathering at its gates. These forces are rich, powerful, ideologically driven—and they are not waiting for permission to remake the system.

Young Graduates Face Rising Unemployment Amidst Neoliberal Pressures and Elite Narratives

A recent Fortune article by Eleanor Pringle, highlighting the alarming rise in unemployment among recent college graduates, underscores a growing crisis that institutions of higher education can no longer afford to ignore. With the jobless rate for bachelor’s degree holders spiking to 6.1%—and even higher for those with advanced degrees or some college but no degree—this trend is more than a post-pandemic ripple. It’s a signal that the college-to-career pipeline is faltering, especially for Gen Z.

But while the numbers tell one story, the public narrative is increasingly shaped by powerful voices in American business—voices like JPMorgan Chase CEO Jamie Dimon, Home Depot’s Ted Decker, and Walmart U.S. CEO John Furner. These executives have become some of the most visible champions of “skills over degrees,” calling for a shift in focus from academic credentials to job readiness and alternative career paths.

We would do well, however, to approach their arguments with caution.

Elite Narratives in a Neoliberal Economy

Dimon, Decker, and Furner are not wrong to critique a higher education system that too often overpromises and underdelivers. They are correct to point out that the U.S. has neglected non-degree pathways and vocational training. But their critiques also reflect a broader neoliberal ideology—one that places the burden of employability on the individual while absolving employers and policymakers of structural responsibility.

In this framework, it's not the economy that fails young graduates—it's graduates who fail to align themselves with market demands. It's not corporations underinvesting in training or offering substandard wages—it's colleges miseducating and students mischoosing. These narratives, while seductive in their simplicity, risk obscuring deeper systemic issues: wage stagnation, job precarity, labor casualization, and the erosion of worker protections.

Dimon’s call to “measure schools by whether students get jobs” is emblematic of this thinking. It reduces education to a transaction and a worker pipeline—ignoring the broader civic, intellectual, and ethical missions of higher learning. Meanwhile, companies like JPMorgan, Home Depot, and Walmart have long histories of low-wage employment and union resistance. Their newfound concern for youth opportunity must be understood in the context of maintaining control over the terms of labor.

A System Out of Sync

Still, the data is troubling. Young graduates are struggling, and even those who find work are often underemployed—working jobs that do not require their degrees and offer limited upward mobility. The system, as it currently functions, is out of sync with both the labor market and student expectations.

But if college is failing to deliver secure employment, it’s not because education has too many ideals. It’s because the broader economy has too few guarantees. Young workers are increasingly caught in a no-win situation: Take on crushing student debt to chase credentials that may not yield career security—or forgo college and risk being excluded from many white-collar opportunities altogether.

A Different Conversation

The calls from corporate elites to “rethink” college are not entirely misplaced—but they are incomplete and self-serving. We must instead ask: What kind of economy do we want for young people? One where education is a public good and decent work is a right? Or one where economic survival hinges on which company-approved credential a person has managed to obtain?

Policymakers, educators, and advocates must seize this moment to widen the conversation. We need expanded public investment in both college and non-college pathways. We need labor reforms that strengthen worker protections and bargaining power. And we need to challenge the idea that economic justice can be achieved solely through personal skill acquisition.

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Stay with the Higher Education Inquirer for ongoing analysis of higher education, labor, and the evolving American economy.

How Higher Education Has Made America’s Caste System Worse

Higher education in the United States has long been marketed as the great equalizer—a system where hard work and talent supposedly translate into opportunity. But over the last four decades, it has increasingly reinforced and legitimized an American caste system. Through elite gatekeeping, rising tuition, unsustainable student debt, and the erosion of public support, higher education has helped harden economic class divisions, limit social mobility, and deepen inequality across racial and geographic lines.

The backdrop to this shift is a broader trend toward inequality in American society. The U.S. Gini Index—a measure of income inequality where 0 is perfect equality and 1 is maximum inequality—rose from 0.403 in 1980 to 0.494 in 2022, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. This ranks the United States among the most unequal of advanced economies. During this same period, college tuition increased by more than 1,200%—far outpacing both inflation and wage growth. Real wages for most Americans have remained stagnant since the late 1970s, while education has become more expensive and less accessible, especially for low- and middle-income families.

Elite universities have played a critical role in this transformation. Institutions such as Harvard, Princeton, Stanford, and Columbia admit more students from families in the top 1% of the income distribution than from the bottom 60% combined, according to research by economists Raj Chetty and colleagues at Opportunity Insights. Legacy admissions, donor preferences, and access to elite extracurricular activities and expensive test prep services give wealthier applicants clear advantages. Despite growing awareness of these disparities, the gates to elite education remain closed to most Americans. In 2023, the Supreme Court struck down affirmative action policies, further limiting access for underrepresented students of color.

Public colleges and universities, once affordable vehicles for upward mobility, have also become less accessible and more commercialized. State disinvestment in public higher education has been dramatic. Between 1980 and 2020, state funding per student declined by nearly 20% in inflation-adjusted dollars. To make up the shortfall, public universities increased tuition and fees, shifted toward out-of-state and international students who pay more, and invested in revenue-generating activities like athletics, real estate, and research partnerships with private industry. Flagship universities have increasingly mimicked elite privates, while regional public universities—serving the most vulnerable populations—have been neglected, consolidated, or closed.

For-profit colleges, often owned by private equity firms, have targeted low-income, first-generation, and non-traditional students, promising quick credentials and job placement. In reality, many of these institutions deliver poor outcomes, high dropout rates, and outsized debt burdens. According to the U.S. Department of Education, students at for-profit institutions are twice as likely to default on their loans compared to those at public colleges.

The student loan crisis is a defining feature of this caste-like system. Total student loan debt in the U.S. surpassed $1.7 trillion in 2023, with more than 45 million Americans carrying loans. Black borrowers, in particular, face disproportionate burdens. Data from the Brookings Institution show that Black graduates owe an average of $25,000 more than white graduates four years after graduation, due in part to differences in generational wealth and post-college income. Many borrowers spend decades in repayment or fall into default, resulting in ruined credit, wage garnishment, and loss of social mobility.

Meanwhile, the internal labor structure of higher education mirrors the broader erosion of the middle class. Since the 1970s, the percentage of faculty in tenure-track positions has declined from roughly 70% to under 30%. Today, more than 70% of college instructors are contingent workers—adjuncts or lecturers without job security, benefits, or a livable wage. Many earn less than $3,500 per course, forcing them to string together multiple jobs or rely on public assistance. The very institutions that promote education as the path to professional stability are exploiting educated workers at scale.

Credential inflation has also contributed to the caste structure. Jobs that once required a high school diploma now demand a bachelor’s degree, while others that once required a bachelor's now demand a master's or doctorate. This escalation has not always come with higher pay or better conditions but has added years of unpaid or underpaid labor, especially in fields like education, social work, and academia. As employers outsource training responsibilities to colleges, individuals are expected to invest more in credentials—often at their own expense—just to remain competitive.

Cultural narratives of meritocracy continue to legitimize these outcomes. College is still portrayed as a personal investment and a moral obligation—despite clear evidence that structural inequality determines who can afford to attend, who can complete a degree, and who can leverage it into economic stability. The myth that higher education is a universal equalizer serves to obscure how deeply stratified the system has become.

Higher education could be a force for economic justice and democratic renewal. But as it currently functions, it serves as a sorting mechanism that reproduces existing hierarchies. Elite institutions credential the ruling class. Public universities ration opportunity through rising costs. For-profit schools prey on the vulnerable. And the debt system punishes those who try to improve their circumstances through education.

Unless the system is restructured—through robust public funding, tuition-free options, large-scale debt relief, labor protections, and a renewed commitment to equity—higher education will continue to solidify America's caste system rather than dismantle it.

Sources: U.S. Census Bureau (Gini Index), U.S. Department of Education, National Center for Education Statistics, Opportunity Insights, Brookings Institution, Institute for Higher Education Policy, The Century Foundation, “The Merit Myth” by Anthony Carnevale et al., “The Debt Trap” by Josh Mitchell

From EdTech Darling to Distressed Asset — A Post-Bankruptcy Autopsy

The fall of 2U, once a poster child of education technology innovation, is a cautionary tale for investors, policymakers, and students alike. After riding a wave of optimism in the online education bo-m, the company declared Chapter 11 bankruptcy in mid-2024, emerging weeks later as a privately held firm now controlled by distressed asset investors. While many of the company’s top executives have been replaced or reshuffled, the story is far from over—and the damage done to public trust in university–edtech partnerships remains.

Founded in 2008 and based in Lanham, Maryland, 2U positioned itself as a premier Online Program Manager (OPM), contracting with top-tier universities to run their online degree programs. By 2019, the company was a billion-dollar operation, boasting partnerships with USC, Georgetown, and Yale. But cracks began to show as questions about cost, transparency, student outcomes, and aggressive recruiting practices became harder to ignore.

By 2023, 2U was bleeding cash, facing multiple lawsuits, regulatory scrutiny, and plummeting investor confidence. The final blow came when the company defaulted on over $450 million in debt. In July 2024, 2U entered and quickly exited Chapter 11 bankruptcy through a pre-packaged deal. The result: 2U is now a private company, with ownership largely transferred to distressed debt investors—Mudrick Capital Management, Greenvale Capital, and Bayside Capital (an affiliate of H.I.G. Capital).

These firms are known not for a commitment to education but for expertise in distressed asset recovery and aggressive restructuring. Mudrick Capital, for instance, made headlines for its role in the AMC “meme stock” frenzy. Bayside Capital has long operated in the shadows of high-risk debt markets, favoring fast-moving deals in stressed financial environments. Greenvale Capital, a lesser-known but analytically rigorous hedge fund, rounds out the group.

Following the takeover, 2U appointed Kees Bol as its new CEO and installed Brian Napack—a veteran of the education sector and former CEO of Wiley—as Executive Chairman of the Board. Whether this new leadership can turn 2U around remains unclear. For now, they are signaling a pivot toward non-degree credentials and corporate upskilling markets, away from costly master’s degree programs that saddled students with debt and poor returns.

But 2U’s shift is not merely a business story. Its implosion exposes broader flaws in the higher education–tech ecosystem. OPMs like 2U operated in a legal gray area, exploiting Title IV federal student aid without direct regulatory oversight. Critics, including lawmakers and consumer protection advocates, argue that these firms served more as enrollment mills than academic partners. The Department of Education’s efforts to rein in the industry through “bundled services” guidance and potential Gainful Employment rules came too late to prevent massive financial fallout.

The universities that partnered with 2U are also complicit. Many ceded control of curriculum design, admissions, and marketing to a for-profit company in exchange for a share of the revenue. In doing so, they risked their reputations—and in some cases, knowingly funneled students into programs with dubious value. These relationships, many of which are still active, should now be reexamined in light of 2U’s restructuring.

Students who enrolled in these programs, often with the promise of career advancement and elite credentials, are left with debt and degrees that may not deliver the expected return. As 2U retools its strategy under the control of financial firms, it's unclear whether these students—or future ones—will benefit at all.

Meanwhile, the venture capitalists and financial engineers behind the scenes have already cashed out or secured their positions in the restructured entity. Like so many stories in the for-profit education sector, 2U’s downfall was not just predictable—it was profitable for those who knew how to play the system.

Have you worked with 2U—or been affected by it?

The Higher Education Inquirer is continuing its investigation into 2U and the wider online program management (OPM) industry. If you are a former or current employee of 2U, Trilogy Education, EdX, or a related company, a university staff or faculty member who collaborated with 2U, a student or graduate of a 2U-powered program, a marketing contractor, admissions specialist, or vendor affiliated with 2U or its partners, or someone with knowledge of the company's restructuring or operations—we want to hear from you.

We are especially interested in experiences involving enrollment pressure tactics, misleading marketing, internal operations, financial mismanagement, compliance concerns, and revenue-sharing agreements with universities. If 2U’s collapse or restructuring affected your job, finances, or education, your story matters.

You can share information confidentially by contacting us at gmcghee@aya.yale.edu. Anonymity will be protected upon request.

Older (Desperate) Folks Targeted for Online Robocolleges

In recent years, the profile of student loan borrowers in the United States has shifted dramatically. While student debt is often associated with young adults entering the workforce, a rapidly growing number of older Americans—those aged 50 and above—are carrying significant student loan balances, revealing a troubling new dimension of the nation’s student debt crisis.

As of mid-2025, approximately 7.8 million Americans aged 50 and older hold federal student loan debt, representing about 6% of adults in this age group. Many have borrowed not only for their own education but also to finance their children’s or grandchildren’s schooling. Others have returned to college later in life, seeking new skills or credentials to remain competitive. Yet, these borrowers often face unique challenges that have been exacerbated by the rise of so-called “robocolleges.”

Robocolleges are online institutions that aggressively market to older adults, promising flexible schedules and quick credentials that can lead to better job prospects. However, many of these institutions have come under scrutiny for their low graduation rates, high tuition costs, and poor outcomes for students. Unlike traditional colleges, robocolleges often rely heavily on automated systems and minimal personal support, leaving vulnerable older learners with little guidance about loan obligations or realistic career prospects.

These institutions have played a significant role in trapping many older Americans in unsustainable debt. Borrowers are lured by the promise of upward mobility but frequently end up with degrees that hold limited value in the labor market. The high cost of attendance combined with aggressive recruitment tactics has led many to accumulate tens of thousands of dollars in student loan debt with few prospects for repayment.

Among older borrowers—6.2 million between 50 and 61 years old, and 2.8 million aged 62 or older—the average federal student loan balance for the 50–61 cohort is around $47,000, the highest among all age groups. Around 8% are delinquent on their loans, with median delinquent balances near $11,500. For those over 62, approximately 452,000 are in default and face the threat of Social Security benefit garnishment, though recent government actions have temporarily paused such garnishments.

The debt explosion among older Americans has been dramatic: over the past two decades, the number of borrowers aged 60 and above has increased sixfold, with total debt rising nearly twentyfold. Robocolleges, with their predatory recruitment and inadequate educational outcomes, are a central piece of this puzzle, helping to drive up borrowing without delivering commensurate value.

This growing crisis underscores the urgent need for policy reforms tailored to the realities faced by older borrowers. There must be greater transparency and accountability from robocolleges, stronger consumer protections, and expanded debt relief options that reflect the challenges of late-in-life borrowing. Additionally, educational counseling and financial literacy support designed specifically for older students are crucial.

The student debt crisis in America is no longer only about young adults trying to start their careers—it increasingly jeopardizes the financial security and dignity of older generations. As robocolleges continue to trap vulnerable older learners in cycles of debt, the urgency for reform becomes even clearer.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to investigate and report on this evolving crisis, amplifying the voices of those caught in the crosshairs of an expanding student debt epidemic.

Robocollege Update

 

Robocolleges are a mix of for-profit and non-profit online colleges, both secular and Christian.  Their focus is on automation and reduced costs, particularly labor costs:

Instruction is delivered through automated Learning Management Systems (LMS) and online platforms, relying less on professors and more on pre-recorded lectures and automated grading. Even support staff are being replaced by chatbots.  

While some qualified individuals might be involved, educational content is often developed by large teams with varying expertise, potentially sacrificing quality for cost-effectiveness.

Marketing and advertising continue to be costly. But targeting marketing (e.g. targeting military service members and veterans, teachers, nurses, and government workers in low-income neighborhoods) can improve cost efficiency. 

Robocolleges offer degrees with a wide range of value to consumers (return on investment versus debt).  For people who need a degree (or an advanced degree) to play the game in government and medicine, these credentials may have value. 

Competency-based education and credits for life experience reduce the number of courses some students need to graduate.  Servicemembers going to Purdue Global, for example, can get an AA with as few as five college courses and a BS with as little as seven additional courses.

Cheating is probably easier for online students who are so inclined and whether these companies care is not really known.  

Southern New Hampshire (SNHU) continues to be the growth and efficiency leader, with the highest enrollment, more than 160,000 students. SNHU is also experimenting with artificial intelligence to reduce labor costs. In addition, SNHU works with Guild (aka Guild Education), which recruits workers from Walmart, Target, Waste Management, and other large employers.  

Grand Canyon (for-profit) and Liberty University (non-profit) target Christians for online credentials.  But oppressive debt is a concern with some of their programs. Social mobility for students is subpar.  

Purdue University Global and University of Arizona, Global Campus are two former for-profit colleges now owned by state universities. Information about their financial status is sketchy. Like SNHU, Purdue Global works with Guild to recruit working folks.  Purdue Global owes its online program manager. Kaplan Education, about $128 million.  Arizona Global has had financial difficulties which have affected the University of Arizona's bottom line.  

The University of Phoenix has returned to profitability by reducing instruction and student services by $100 million a year and legal costs by $50 million a year.  Consumers continue to file fraud complaints by the tens of thousands.  And debt is an enormous problem with former students.  It's not apparent whether Phoenix can maintain such enormous profits, but its future as a non-profit affiliated with the University of Idaho may reduce its tax burden and legal liabilities. 

Here are the most recent numbers from the US Department of Education College Navigator:

American Intercontinental University: 89 full-time instructors for 14,333 students.
American Public University System has 332 F/T instructors for 48,688 students.
Aspen University has 27 F/T instructors for 7,386 students.
Capella University: 180 F/T for 39,727 students.
Colorado State University Global: 40 F/T instructors for 9,565 students.
Colorado Technical University: 55 F/T instructors for 24,808 students.
Devry University online: 61 F/T instructors for 26,384 students.
Grand Canyon University has 550 F/T instructors for 101,816 students.*
Liberty University: 735 F/T for 96,709 students.*
Purdue University Global: 337 F/T instructors for 45,125 students.
South University: 41 F/T instructors for 7,707 students.
Southern New Hampshire University: 130 F/T for 164,091 students.
University of Arizona Global Campus: 122 F/T instructors for 34,190 students.
University of Maryland Global: 177 F/T instructors for 55,838 students.
University of Phoenix: 80 F/T instructors for 88,891 students.
Walden University: 235 F/T for 42,312 students.

*Most F/T faculty serve the ground campuses that profit from the online schools. 

 

Related links:

Robocolleges, Artificial Intelligence, and the Dehumanization of Higher Education (2023)

AI-ROBOT CAPITALISTS WILL DESTROY THE HUMAN ECONOMY (Randall Collins, 2023)

Guild Education: Enablers of Anti-Union Corporations and Subprime College Programs (2021)

The Growth of "RoboColleges" and "Robostudents" (2019)

The Higher Education Assembly Line (2019)