Campus Warning: Avoid Contact with Turning Point USA

Turning Point USA (TPUSA) brands itself as a conservative youth movement dedicated to free markets and limited government. In reality, a growing body of investigative reporting, watchdog research, and student testimony reveals an organization built on intimidation, manipulation, and close ties to extremists. Students should be aware of the risks before engaging with TPUSA in any capacity.

From its inception, TPUSA has sought to be confrontational. One of its most notorious tools, the Professor Watchlist, publishes the names, photos, and alleged offenses of professors the group deems “anti-conservative.” This public shaming campaign has been condemned by educators and civil liberties advocates as a threat to academic freedom and personal safety. In more recent years, TPUSA has expanded its targets beyond individual professors, with initiatives like the School Board Watchlist, designed to stir distrust of public education and stoke fear around diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives.

These campaigns are paired with questionable political tactics. Investigations have shown that TPUSA has engaged in covert influence efforts on college campuses, including secretly funding student government elections and running coordinated online disinformation campaigns. Their political arm, Turning Point Action, has been compared to a troll farm for its use of deceptive social media operations.

The group’s leadership and chapters have repeatedly been linked to white supremacist and far-right extremist figures. TPUSA events have hosted or associated with members of Nick Fuentes’ “Groyper” movement, Holocaust deniers, and other alt-right personalities. The Southern Poverty Law Center, Anti-Defamation League, and multiple journalists have documented these associations, which TPUSA leaders routinely downplay. Internal communications and leaked chapter messages have exposed racist, homophobic, and Islamophobic rhetoric from members. Charlie Kirk, TPUSA’s founder, once falsely claimed that a Black woman had “taken his place” at West Point, a statement criticized as both untrue and racially inflammatory.

TPUSA’s messaging also extends beyond politics into science denial. The group has repeatedly dismissed the scientific consensus on climate change, framing environmental concerns as a hoax or left-wing scare tactic, and hosting events that platform climate change skeptics over credible experts. TPUSA has received significant funding from fossil fuel interests, including Koch network-affiliated donors, and from political megadonors such as Foster Friess and Rebekah Mercer, who are known for underwriting climate denial campaigns. Other key allies include right-wing think tanks like the Heritage Foundation and media figures such as Tucker Carlson, who have amplified TPUSA’s messaging to broader audiences. The organization has also benefitted from support by religious nationalist groups and political operatives who share its hardline positions on education, race, and gender.

TPUSA’s confrontational model often invites chaos. At UC Davis, a TPUSA-sponsored event erupted into physical clashes involving Proud Boys. Across campuses, students and faculty report that TPUSA representatives deliberately provoke heated exchanges, record them, and circulate the footage to mobilize their base and fundraise off manufactured outrage. Former members have confirmed that such confrontations are not accidental, but rather part of the playbook.

While TPUSA presents itself as a mainstream conservative voice, the evidence paints a darker picture: an organization willing to distort, harass, and align with extremists to achieve its goals. Students seeking honest political debate should look for groups that engage in respectful dialogue, value truth over theatrics, and reject intimidation as a tool.

Sources:
Southern Poverty Law Center – Turning Point USA: Case Study in the Hard Right
Media Matters – Turning Point USA’s History of Racism and White Nationalist Ties
The New Yorker – A Conservative Nonprofit That Seeks to Transform College Campuses Faces Allegations of Racial Bias and Illegal Campaign Activity
Anti-Defamation League – Extremism in American Politics: Turning Point USA
Wired – How Charlie Kirk Plans to Discredit Martin Luther King Jr. and the Civil Rights Act
Chron – Texas A&M Turning Point Chat Exposes Racist and Homophobic Comments
The Guardian – What I Learned When Turning Point USA Came to My Campus
OpenSecrets – Turning Point USA Donors and Political Funding
DeSmog – Turning Point USA and Fossil Fuel Industry Influence

The Pritzker Paradox: Elite Influence and For‑Profit Exploitation in Higher Education

As the 2028 presidential race accelerates, J.B. Pritzker has emerged as a favored candidate among Democratic power brokers. His public image—competent, pragmatic, socially liberal, and reliably anti-Trump—has been carefully shaped to appeal to voters exhausted by polarization and chaos. But beneath this polished surface lies a deep and troubling contradiction that the public, and especially those affected by the student-debt crisis, cannot afford to ignore. This contradiction, the Pritzker Paradox, stems from the profound dissonance between Pritzker’s public rhetoric about educational opportunity and the private capital networks that have fueled both his family’s wealth and his political ascent.

The Pritzker family has long been intertwined with for-profit higher education and its surrounding ecosystem of lenders, service providers, and private-equity investors. These sectors have collectively played a major role in producing the contemporary student-debt crisis. While J.B. Pritzker often presents himself as a champion of equity, public investment, and educational access, his family’s financial history reveals an alignment with institutions that have extracted billions from low-income students, veterans, and Black and Latino communities through high-cost, low-value educational programs.

This is not simply a matter of past investments. It is part of an ongoing and highly influential political economy in which wealthy Democratic donors, private-equity executives, and education “reformers” operate as a unified class. Central to that class formation is The Vistria Group, a Chicago-based private-equity firm founded by Marty Nesbitt, a close friend of Barack Obama. Vistria stands at the intersection of Democratic power and education profiteering. After the collapse of scandal-ridden chains like Corinthian Colleges and ITT Tech, Vistria did not step in to dismantle the exploitative for-profit model. Instead, it strategically acquired distressed educational assets and reconstructed them into a new generation of institutions that presented themselves as “nonprofits” while maintaining tuition-driven, debt-laden business models. Former Obama administration officials moved seamlessly into Vistria and related firms, raising serious questions about regulatory capture and revolving-door governance.

Pritzker moves within this same Chicago-centered network. His political donors, associates, and advisers overlap significantly with the circles that built Vistria’s ascent. The structural relationships matter more than any single investment. A Pritzker administration would not exist outside this ecosystem; it would be shaped by it. The question, therefore, is not whether Pritzker personally signed a for-profit acquisition deal but whether the political world that produced him can be trusted to regulate higher education fairly and aggressively. The answer, based on the last twenty years of policy and practice, is no.

This is especially troubling because presidents play a decisive role in higher-education oversight. Through the Department of Education, a president can strengthen or weaken borrower protections, set standards for nonprofit conversions, determine enforcement priorities, and decide whether private-equity extraction will be challenged or quietly accommodated. Millions of borrowers harmed by predatory institutions are currently awaiting relief through borrower defense, income-driven repayment audits, and Gainful Employment rules. The integrity of these processes depends on political leadership that is independent from the private-equity interests that helped create the crisis.

Pritzker’s political style—managerial, technocratic, deeply rooted in elite networks—suggests continuity rather than challenge. The neoliberal framework he embodies does not confront structural inequalities; it manages them. It does not dismantle extractive systems; it attempts to regulate their excesses while leaving their core intact. In higher education, this approach has already failed. It is the reason the for-profit sector was allowed to expand dramatically under both Republican and Democratic administrations. It is why private-equity firms continue to control large segments of the educational marketplace through complex ownership structures and shadow nonprofits. And it is why millions of borrowers remain trapped in debts for degrees that offered little or no economic return.

The Pritzker Paradox is therefore not a story about one wealthy governor. It is a story about the consolidation of political and economic power within a narrow elite that has profited handsomely from the financialization of education while promising, cycle after cycle, to reform the very problems it helped create. Vistria exemplifies this dynamic. The Pritzker family’s history echoes it. And a Pritzker presidency would likely entrench it further.

America needs leadership willing to challenge private-equity influence in higher education, not leadership bound to it. The country needs a president who understands education as a public good, not a marketplace. For borrowers, students, and communities harmed by decades of predatory practices, the stakes could not be higher. The choice before the nation is not simply whether Pritzker is preferable to Trump. It is whether the country will continue to entrust its public institutions to elites who speak the language of equity while advancing the interests of the very networks that undermined educational opportunity in the first place.

Sources
Public reporting on Pritzker family investments in for-profit and education-related sectors; investigations by the Senate HELP Committee, GAO, and CFPB; reporting on The Vistria Group’s acquisitions and nonprofit conversions; analyses of private-equity influence in U.S. higher education; academic literature on neoliberalism and elite capture.

Higher Education and the Culture of Silence

American higher education presents itself as a beacon of truth, courage, and critical inquiry. Yet behind the marketing gloss lies a pervasive culture of silence—one that extends far beyond colleges and universities themselves. The same forces that suppress dissent on campus operate through a larger ecosystem of nonprofits, contractors, ed-tech companies, and “public-private partnerships” that orbit higher ed. Together, they form a network of institutional interests that reward secrecy, punish whistleblowers, and prioritize reputation and revenue over honesty and accountability.

At the center of this system are nondisclosure agreements. NDAs are now standard tools not only in universities, but in the foundations that support them, the think tanks that shape education policy, and the ed-tech corporations that extract profit from student data and public subsidies. Whether a case involves workplace retaliation, fraudulent recruitment, financial misconduct, algorithmic harm, or student exploitation, NDAs are used to hide patterns of abuse and protect organizations from scrutiny. What gets buried is not just information—it is the possibility of reform.

The threat of litigation is part of the same architecture. Universities, nonprofits, and ed-tech companies routinely rely on aggressive legal strategies to silence critics. Workers attempting to expose unethical contracts, deceptive marketing, or discrimination face cease-and-desist letters. Researchers who publish unflattering findings are pressured to retract or soften their conclusions. Students raising alarms about data privacy or predatory practices encounter legal intimidation disguised as “professional communication.” These organizations—flush with donor money, investor capital, or public funds—use lawsuits and threats of lawsuits as shields and weapons.

Leadership across this broader ecosystem is often weak, conflicted, or corrupt. University presidents beholden to trustees are mirrored by nonprofit executives beholden to major donors, and by ed-tech CEOs beholden to venture capital. Many leaders prioritize political favor, philanthropic relationships, and corporate growth over the public interest. They outsource accountability to law firms, PR agencies, and consulting outfits whose job is not to fix problems but to bury them.

And circulating through this system is the same cast of characters: politicians chasing influence, lawyers crafting airtight silence, consultants selling risk-mitigation strategies, bean counters manipulating data, and conmen repackaging failed ideas as “innovation.” The lines between nonprofit, corporate, and educational interests have blurred to the point of erasure. Trustees who shape campus policy sit on nonprofit boards. Ed-tech companies hire former university officials and then market themselves back to campuses. Donors direct funds through philanthropic intermediaries that simultaneously pressure institutions for access and silence.

The victims of this system—faculty, staff, gig workers in tech and nonprofit roles, graduate students, undergraduates, and even the communities surrounding campuses—are pressured to comply. They face retaliation in the form of job loss, non-renewal, demotion, academic penalties, professional blacklisting, or immigration vulnerabilities. Whistleblowers are isolated. Critics are surveilled. And when the fallout becomes too public to contain, institutions rely on payouts—quiet settlements, buyouts, and confidential agreements that allow perpetrators to move seamlessly to their next institution or company.

This culture of silence is not a collection of isolated incidents. It is a structural feature of modern higher education and the industries built around it.

But it is not unbreakable.

If you have experienced or witnessed this culture—whether in a university, a higher-ed nonprofit, or the ed-tech world—the Higher Education Inquirer invites you to share your story. You may do so publicly or anonymously. We understand the risks. We know many people cannot speak openly without jeopardizing their jobs, degrees, or health. Anonymous accounts are welcome, valued, and protected.

Your story, no matter how brief, can help illuminate the patterns that institutions spend billions to obscure. Silence is what sustains the system. Truth—shared safely and collectively—is what can dismantle it.

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Sources

• Elisabeth Rosenthal, An American Sickness

• Alondra Nelson, Body and Soul

• Harriet A. Washington, Medical Apartheid

• Rebecca Skloot, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks

• Reporting from the Higher Education Inquirer on university corruption, NDAs, donor influence, and ed-tech abuses

• Investigations into nonprofit and ed-tech misconduct published in public records, court filings, and independent journalism

The Council for National Policy and the Quiet War on Higher Education

The Council for National Policy (CNP), a secretive coalition of right-wing activists, donors, and religious leaders, has long operated behind closed doors to reshape American politics. Less visible—but no less consequential—is the CNP’s influence on U.S. higher education. Rather than building a parallel university system, the Council and its affiliates have sought to infiltrate, defund, and redirect existing institutions—while funding their own ideological outposts to train future political operatives and culture warriors.

From its founding in 1981, the CNP has cultivated a network of allies committed to a vision of America rooted in Christian nationalism, economic libertarianism, and anti-communism. Higher education, particularly public and research universities, has been a frequent target of its disdain. These institutions are framed as dens of secularism, moral relativism, and Marxist indoctrination. The strategy has been clear: weaken the credibility and funding of traditional universities while supporting alternative pipelines that reinforce conservative ideology.

Organizations like Turning Point USA, Young America’s Foundation, and the Intercollegiate Studies Institute have received support from CNP-connected donors and board members. These groups are active on campuses across the country, often attacking faculty and student activists who advocate for racial justice, labor rights, climate action, or LGBTQ+ inclusion. Turning Point’s “Professor Watchlist” is emblematic of this effort, identifying and shaming educators deemed “radical” or “anti-American.” Behind the student-centered branding are well-financed political interests looking to re-engineer campus discourse and manufacture consent for a reactionary worldview.

While public institutions struggle with budget cuts and political interference, private colleges like Hillsdale College and Liberty University flourish with donor support from CNP-affiliated foundations. These schools market themselves as bastions of classical learning and Christian values, but they also function as training grounds for conservative media, law, and politics. Hillsdale in particular, with its rejection of federal funding and its alignment with Trump-era governance, has produced graduates who have moved seamlessly into roles in think tanks, policy shops, and Republican administrations.

The CNP’s influence extends beyond campuses into legislative agendas. Through connected organizations such as the Heritage Foundation and the American Legislative Exchange Council (ALEC), the network has promoted laws that aim to ban the teaching of critical race theory, eliminate diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) offices, and impose state-mandated curriculum standards favoring patriotism over critical inquiry. Many of these efforts are packaged as promoting intellectual diversity, but in practice they represent a concerted attack on academic freedom.

Higher education is not simply collateral damage in the culture war. It is a primary battlefield. The push to defund public universities, restrict tenure, and surveil classroom speech is not accidental—it is part of a long-term project to discredit institutions that might challenge the political status quo. The goal is not just to influence what is taught, but to control who gets to teach and who gets to learn.

In the CNP’s vision, universities are not places for open debate or exploration, but potential threats to moral order and market orthodoxy. Knowledge becomes dangerous when it questions power. And so the Council works quietly, diligently, to ensure that the next generation of Americans is shaped not by democratic ideals but by theological certainty, corporate loyalty, and partisan allegiance.

While the names and tactics may evolve, the endgame remains the same: a higher education landscape where critical thinking is subordinated to dogma, and where the pursuit of truth yields to the demands of political conformity. Whether the broader public recognizes this campaign in time remains to be seen.

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Sources
Anne Nelson, Shadow Network: Media, Money, and the Secret Hub of the Radical Right
Southern Poverty Law Center: “Council for National Policy” profile
Excerpts from leaked CNP membership directories and agendas (SourceWatch, The Guardian, Washington Post)
Isaac Arnsdorf, “Inside the CNP’s Shadowy Strategy Meetings” (Politico)
Hillsdale College Curriculum and Federal Funding Statements
Turning Point USA Professor Watchlist and donor records
Public records from ALEC, Heritage Foundation, and affiliated legislation

The Four Envelopes: A Cautionary Tale for Higher Education

When a new university president arrives on campus, they inherit more than a title and a set of obligations. They inherit a political ecosystem, a financial tangle, an entrenched culture of silence, and a long list of unresolved failures handed down like family heirlooms. Academic folklore captures this reality in the famous story of the three envelopes, a darkly humorous parable that has circulated for decades. But the contemporary landscape of higher education—with its billionaire trustees, private-equity logic, political interference, and donor-driven governance—demands an updated version. In 2025, the story no longer ends with three envelopes.

It begins the usual way. On the new president’s first day, they find a note from their predecessor and three envelopes in the top drawer. A few months later, enrollment stumbles, faculty grow restless, and trustees begin asking pointed questions. The president opens the first envelope. It reads: “Blame your predecessor.” And so they do, invoking inherited deficits, outdated practices, and “a period of transition.” Everyone relaxes. Nothing changes.

The second crisis comes with even less warning. Budget gaps widen. Donors back away. A scandal simmers. Morale erodes. The president remembers the drawer and opens the second envelope. It says: “Reorganize.” Suddenly the campus is flooded with restructuring proposals, new committees, new vice provosts, and flowcharts that signal movement rather than direction. The sense of activity buys time, which is all the president really needed.

Eventually comes the kind of crisis that neither blame nor reshuffling can contain: a revolt among faculty, a public scandal, a collapse in confidence from every constituency that actually keeps the university functioning. The president reaches for the third envelope. It contains the classic message: “Prepare three envelopes.” Leadership in higher education is cyclical, and presidents come and go with the expensive inevitability of presidential searches and golden-parachute departures.

But that is where the old story ends, and where the modern one begins.

In the updated version, the president sees one more envelope in the drawer. This one is heavier, embossed, and unmistakably official. When they open it, they find a severance agreement and a check already drafted. The fourth envelope is a parting gift from megadonor and trustee Marc Rowan.

The symbolism is blunt. In an era when billionaire donors treat universities like portfolio companies and ideological battlegrounds, presidential tenures can end not because of institutional failure but because the wrong donor was displeased. Rowan, the financier who helped drive leadership changes at the University of Pennsylvania, represents a broader shift in American higher education: presidents are increasingly accountable not to faculty, staff, students, or the public, but to wealthy benefactors whose money exerts gravitational pull over governance itself. When those benefactors want a president removed, the departure is not a matter of process or principle but of power.

The fourth envelope reveals the new architecture of control. It tells incoming presidents that their exit was negotiated before their first decision, that donor influence can override shared governance, and that golden severance packages can help smooth over conflicts between public mission and private interest. It is a warning to campus communities that transparency is not a value but an obstacle, and that leadership stability is fragile when tied to the preferences of a handful of financiers.

The revised story ends not with resignation but with a question: what happens to the public mission of a university when private wealth dictates its leadership? And how long will faculty, students, and staff tolerate a structure in which the highest office is subject not to democratic accountability but to donor impatience?

The four envelopes are no longer folklore. They are a mirror.

Sources
Chronicle of Higher Education reporting on donor-driven leadership pressure at Penn
Inside Higher Ed coverage on presidential turnover and governance conflicts
Public reporting on Marc Rowan’s influence in university decision-making
Research literature on billionaire philanthropy and power in higher education

Muckraking and the Modern University

From the Gilded Age to the digital era, muckraking has served as a check on concentrated power. It has exposed exploitation in factories, corruption in government, racial terror, and corporate deceit. Today, that same spirit is urgently needed in higher education—an industry that has become both immensely wealthy and profoundly unequal.

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Ida B. Wells and the Moral Foundation of Muckraking (1890s)

Modern investigative reporting begins with Ida B. Wells, who in the late 19th century documented the horrors of lynching and the complicity of institutions in perpetuating racial terror. In Southern Horrors (1892) and The Red Record (1895), Wells used data, testimony, and moral clarity to challenge both white supremacy and institutional silence.

Her courage established muckraking not just as journalism but as moral resistance—a template for confronting systemic injustice, whether in government, business, or education.

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Thorstein Veblen and the Rise of the Business University (1918)

By the early 20th century, universities themselves had become powerful institutions. Thorstein Veblen, in The Higher Learning in America (1918), described how trustees, presidents, and donors increasingly treated scholarship as a commodity. The pursuit of truth was subordinated to the pursuit of prestige and profit. Veblen’s critique presaged the administrative bloat, branding culture, and market-driven priorities now standard in higher education.

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Upton Sinclair and The Goosestep (1923)

Upton Sinclair, in The Goosestep: A Study of American Education (1923), argued that elite universities were “factories for the ruling class.” Trustees dictated policy, suppressed dissenting faculty, and produced graduates conditioned to serve wealth and power. Sinclair’s critique resonates a century later, as universities remain highly responsive to donors and financial interests rather than the public good.

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Jessica Mitford and Corporate Exploitation (1960s)

Jessica Mitford, best known for The American Way of Death (1963), brought investigative rigor to industries that relied on secrecy, public trust, and consumer inattention. Her work exposed how profit motives could exploit vulnerability and regulatory gaps. Mitford’s methodology—meticulous documentation, ethical outrage, and clear writing—provides a model for exposing modern higher education practices that prioritize revenue over students’ welfare.

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Digital Muckraking: OPMs and 2U (21st Century)

In the 21st century, online program managers (OPMs) like 2U, Inc. have commercialized education in new ways. Chip Paucek, co-founder and longtime CEO of 2U, built partnerships with elite universities offering certificates and degrees that were sometimes of questionable value, while profiting from revenue-sharing agreements.

When independent journalists examined these arrangements and their implications for students and adjunct labor, they sometimes faced threats of litigation. The ongoing Paucek v. Shaulis case (filed 2024, and still pending) illustrates the modern challenge: exposing systemic issues in higher education can trigger lawsuits designed to intimidate or silence critics.

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The Chilling Effect of Legal Retaliation

Even unfounded lawsuits can suppress critical reporting. Independent journalists, adjuncts, and whistleblowers often lack the resources to defend themselves against legal pressure. This modern form of censorship echoes the intimidation faced by Wells, Sinclair, and Mitford in their respective eras.

Higher education, increasingly operated like a business, has become vulnerable to this kind of silencing. Public interest and accountability require journalists who are willing to persist despite the risks.

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The Enduring Importance of Muckraking

From Wells’ moral courage, to Veblen’s economic critique, Sinclair’s exposé of elite conformity, and Mitford’s corporate investigations, muckrakers have shaped public understanding and accountability. Today, independent journalism is one of the few mechanisms capable of exposing predatory practices, financial manipulation, and labor exploitation in higher education.

As Wells wrote, “The way to right wrongs is to turn the light of truth upon them.” That light has always been costly—but without it, universities risk becoming oligarchies rather than public institutions.

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Reclaiming the Public Good (If That's Possible) 

Muckraking is civic duty. It insists that higher education be judged not by prestige or endowment size, but by service to students and society. Independent journalists must continue the Wells–Veblen–Sinclair–Mitford tradition, confronting power, exposing exploitation, and demanding accountability.

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Sources

• Ida B. Wells, Southern Horrors (1892); The Red Record (1895)

• Thorstein Veblen, The Higher Learning in America (1918)

• Upton Sinclair, The Goosestep: A Study of American Education (1923)

• Jessica Mitford, The American Way of Death (1963)

• Harriet A. Washington, Medical Apartheid (2006)

• Elisabeth Rosenthal, An American Sickness (2017)

• Higher Education Inquirer archives, 2014–2025

• Paucek v. Shaulis (filed October 2024, pending 2025)

UATX and the Manhattan Statement: A Reactionary Vision Masquerading as Reform

The July 14 release of the Manhattan Statement on Higher Education, authored by conservative activist Christopher Rufo and endorsed by a network of public intellectuals including Jordan Peterson and Victor Davis Hanson, signals a renewed attempt to politicize and reengineer U.S. higher education from the top down. The University of Austin (UATX), founded in 2021 as a counter to so-called "woke" universities, quickly aligned itself with the statement’s aims. In his July 17 response, UATX President Carlos Carvalho embraced Rufo’s framing, declaring that his institution was created to reverse what he and others call a crisis of truth and national identity in American academia.

But as previously noted by the Higher Education Inquirer in the article “Socrates in Space: University of Austin and the Art of Selling Platitudes to the Powerful” (July 2024), UATX is not a revolutionary institution. It is a repackaged version of elite academia, complete with wealthy donors, highly connected board members, and a PR strategy rooted in grievance politics. The school’s language of “freedom,” “truth,” and “rigor” masks a political project designed to shape a new generation of conservative elites, while marginalizing alternative perspectives and undermining the pluralism that genuine education requires.

The Manhattan Statement claims that American universities have become engines of ideological tyranny, no longer serving the public good. It calls on the President of the United States to draft a “new contract” that would tie federal funding and accreditation to ideological conformity, enforced through policy tools like grants, loans, and eligibility restrictions. In short, it advocates for government control over academic speech and governance—precisely the kind of top-down coercion that critics of higher education claim to oppose.

President Carvalho responded with a full-throated endorsement of this approach, asserting that universities today lack rigor and suppress dissent, and that UATX alone fosters true academic freedom and civic responsibility. He describes a meritocratic admissions process based on quantitative performance metrics, a rigorous curriculum rooted in “civilizational survival,” and a mission to produce citizens capable of preserving “constitutional liberty and national prosperity.”

In practice, UATX is a selectively curated intellectual space, one that draws heavily on a Western classical canon and excludes broader traditions of inquiry. The “quantitative metrics” for admissions echo longstanding tools of exclusion used by elite schools, masking inequality behind a rhetoric of objectivity. The institution is unaccredited, but wrapped in the trappings of prestige: slick marketing, elite endorsements, and curated media profiles. It critiques the influence of DEI offices while quietly building its own ideological infrastructure, funded by libertarian and neoconservative donors.

UATX claims to break from the existing higher education establishment, but in many ways it reflects its worst tendencies: elite gatekeeping, narrow curriculum design, and a penchant for cultivating future power brokers under the guise of critical thought. Its alignment with figures like Rufo and institutions like the Manhattan Institute reveals that its primary mission is not educational transformation, but political reprogramming.

The true crises in higher education—mounting student debt, the precarity of adjunct labor, bloated administration, and the deepening divide between elite and non-elite institutions—are ignored in both the Manhattan Statement and UATX’s institutional messaging. Instead, culture war narratives dominate the agenda. Rather than addressing the exploitative political economy of higher education, Rufo and Carvalho advance a project that serves to consolidate influence among ideologically aligned elites, while framing dissent and diversity as existential threats to the republic.

UATX is not a path forward for American higher education. It is a reflection of its decay—an institution more interested in slogans and spectacle than in solving the structural issues that actually imperil the future of learning and equity in the United States.

Sources:

Christopher Rufo, Manhattan Statement on Higher Education, July 14, 2025
Carlos Carvalho, UATX Response to the Manhattan Statement, July 17, 2025
University of Austin promotional materials and public statements, www.uaustin.org
Higher Education Inquirer, Socrates in Space: University of Austin and the Art of Selling Platitudes to the Powerful, July 2024
New York Times, The University That War on “Wokeness” Built, December 2021
Inside Higher Ed, UATX and the Spectacle of Merit, February 2024
Chronicle of Higher Education, Is UATX a University or a Political Project?, January 2023

Media Request to Turning Point USA about Protecting Children

Turning Point USA (TPUSA) presents itself as a youth-driven organization committed to “freedom,” “family values,” and protecting young people from ideological harm. Its events, chapters, conferences, and online ecosystem actively recruit high school and college students, many of them minors. That reality alone demands scrutiny. When an organization mobilizes thousands of young people, invites them into closed social networks, overnight conferences, mentorship relationships, and ideologically intense spaces, the question of safeguarding is not optional. It is foundational.

The Higher Education Inquirer is formally requesting that Turning Point USA explain—clearly, publicly, and in detail—how it protects its juvenile members from abuse, exploitation, harassment, grooming, and radicalization.

History shows what happens when powerful institutions prioritize reputation, growth, and loyalty over the safety of children. The Boy Scouts of America concealed decades of sexual abuse. The Catholic Church systematically reassigned abusive clergy while silencing victims. In both cases, leadership claimed moral authority while “looking the other way” to preserve power and legitimacy. These failures were not accidents; they were structural. They occurred in organizations that mixed hierarchy, ideology, secrecy, and minors.

TPUSA operates in a similarly charged environment. Its chapters are often led by young adults with little training in youth protection. Its national leadership cultivates celebrity figures, informal mentorships, and a grievance-driven culture that discourages internal dissent. Its conferences place minors in proximity to adult influencers, donors, and political operatives. Yet TPUSA has not meaningfully explained what independent safeguards are in place to prevent abuse or misconduct.

This concern is heightened by TPUSA’s proximity to extremist online subcultures. The organization has repeatedly intersected with or failed to decisively distance itself from INCEL-adjacent rhetoric and Groypers—a network associated with white nationalism, misogyny, antisemitism, and harassment campaigns targeting young people, especially women and LGBTQ students. Groypers, in particular, have demonstrated an ability to infiltrate conservative youth spaces, weaponize irony, and normalize dehumanizing ideas under the guise of “just asking questions.” These are not abstract risks. They are documented dynamics in digital youth radicalization.

Young men who feel isolated, humiliated, or angry are especially vulnerable to grooming—not only sexual grooming, but ideological grooming that funnels resentment into rigid hierarchies and scapegoating narratives. When organizations valorize grievance, masculinity panic, and enemies within, they create conditions where abuse can flourish and victims are pressured into silence for the “greater cause.”

TPUSA frequently positions itself as a protector of children against educators, librarians, and public schools. That posture invites reciprocal accountability. Who conducts background checks for chapter leaders and event staff? What mandatory reporting policies exist? Are there trauma-informed procedures for handling allegations? Are minors ever placed in unsupervised housing, transportation, or digital spaces with adults? What training is provided on boundaries, consent, and power dynamics? And crucially, what independent oversight exists beyond TPUSA’s own leadership and donors?

Safeguarding cannot be reduced to slogans or moral posturing. It requires transparency, external review, and a willingness to confront uncomfortable truths—even when they implicate allies. Institutions that refuse such scrutiny do not protect children; they protect themselves.

The Higher Education Inquirer awaits Turning Point USA’s response. Silence, deflection, or culture-war theatrics will only deepen concern. If TPUSA truly believes in protecting young people, it should welcome this scrutiny—and prove that it has learned from the catastrophic failures of institutions that came before it.

Sources

Wikipedia, “Turning Point USA”
Wikipedia, “Boy Scouts of America sex abuse cases”
Wikipedia, “Catholic Church sexual abuse cases”
Anti-Defamation League, “Groyper Movement”
Southern Poverty Law Center, reports on white nationalist youth recruitment and online radicalization
Moonshot CVE, research on incel ideology and youth radicalization
New York Times, reporting on abuse scandals in youth-serving institutions
ProPublica, investigations into institutional cover-ups involving minors

Who Rules Higher Education in Florida?

Florida has emerged as a bold experiment in the transformation of American education, a place where the traditional lines between public and private, church and state, learning and indoctrination have become increasingly blurred. The state’s sprawling educational apparatus—from taxpayer-funded religious K–12 schools to politically captured public universities and a booming for-profit college industry—has been reshaped by a tightly knit network of ideological, financial, and political interests. The central question now is no longer just what Florida’s students are learning, but who is deciding what gets taught, who profits, and who is left behind.

This transformation did not begin overnight. It accelerated sharply under the administration of Governor Ron DeSantis, who has leveraged Florida’s educational system as a tool of ideological warfare. But the system’s current shape reflects a deeper pattern of coordinated influence, in which political appointees, religious institutions, for-profit executives, and powerful donors have each claimed a stake in the state’s educational future.

At the K–12 level, Florida now operates the nation’s largest private school voucher program. House Bill 1, passed in 2023, dramatically expanded eligibility, allowing nearly every student in the state to access public funds to attend private schools. The vast majority of these schools are religious in nature, with many promoting evangelical or fundamentalist Christian ideologies. The curricula often reject mainstream science, promote historical revisionism, and enforce gender and sexual conformity. These schools are not subject to the same accreditation or teacher certification standards as public institutions. They are legally permitted to discriminate in admissions, reject LGBTQ+ students, and bypass standardized academic expectations, all while receiving millions in taxpayer subsidies.

The expansion of vouchers has created a shadow education system—one that is state-funded but privately controlled. Some schools operate out of church basements or repurposed office buildings, others are part of large religious networks tied to national political movements. While the promise of "school choice" is used to market these reforms, in practice the policy has enabled a rapid exodus of students from public schools and directed public funds into ideologically driven and poorly regulated institutions. Investigations have revealed schools with histories of fraud, abusive discipline, and woeful academic performance continuing to receive state dollars with little to no oversight.

As students age into adulthood, the ideological structure built in the K–12 years feeds directly into Florida’s remade higher education system. The state’s public universities, long regarded as rising stars in research and student access, have become targets of political intervention. The takeover of New College of Florida in 2023 marked a turning point. Once a small, progressive liberal arts college, New College was transformed into a conservative experiment through political appointments and ideological purges. Faculty were pushed out. Curriculum was rewritten. Leadership was handed to figures with close ties to right-wing think tanks.

This playbook has since been replicated across the State University System. Boards of trustees are now stacked with DeSantis allies. Presidents are chosen not for academic leadership, but for political loyalty. Diversity, equity, and inclusion programs have been banned. Faculty are monitored. Student protests are suppressed. The message is clear: Florida’s public colleges are no longer institutions for the free exchange of ideas—they are instruments of ideological alignment.

Private colleges, meanwhile, have flourished in this environment—especially those aligned with conservative religious values. The University of Miami, while officially nonsectarian, operates in close partnership with powerful biomedical and corporate interests. Rollins College, one of the most prestigious liberal arts schools in the state, remains publicly apolitical but thrives by catering to the children of Florida’s wealthy elite. Religious institutions like Ave Maria University and Palm Beach Atlantic University are more explicit in their missions. Founded with deep connections to conservative Catholic and evangelical movements, these schools are more than just educational spaces—they are ideological outposts for a political and religious project that seeks to reshape American life.

Ave Maria, established by Domino’s Pizza billionaire Tom Monaghan, operates under strict Catholic dogma and enforces a rigid moral code for students. Palm Beach Atlantic champions evangelical Christian values and produces graduates steeped in conservative social teachings. These colleges, along with others in their orbit, often serve as landing pads for students educated in the voucher-funded religious K–12 system. The ideological pipeline is seamless, and its impact is lasting.

Beneath the surface, Florida’s for-profit colleges and credential mills continue to expand, often flying under the radar. Keiser University, once for-profit and now nominally nonprofit, functions much like a for-profit entity, aggressively recruiting students and maximizing revenue through online expansion and federal aid capture. Everglades University, Full Sail University, and dozens of cosmetology, theology, and career schools target working-class Floridians, military veterans, and immigrants with promises of upward mobility. In reality, many of these institutions saddle students with unmanageable debt and provide degrees of questionable value. Oversight is weak. Accreditation standards are often minimal. The end result is a parallel higher education market that profits off desperation and systemic inequality.

Connecting these layers of Florida’s educational system is a network of donors, foundations, and political groups. Organizations like the Council for National Policy, the Heritage Foundation, and the Claremont Institute exert disproportionate influence. Billionaires like Rebekah Mercer, Ken Griffin, and the Uihlein family fund candidates, schools, and think tanks that support the dismantling of public education and the promotion of conservative Christian alternatives. Hillsdale College, though based in Michigan, has launched affiliated charter-style “classical academies” in Florida and supplies training and curriculum to school boards eager to erase what they call “woke indoctrination.”

These efforts are coordinated, strategic, and well-funded. They are not random or reactionary. They represent the construction of a new education regime—one rooted in privatization, obedience, religious orthodoxy, and political control. Academic freedom, democratic engagement, and equitable access are treated not as ideals to strive for, but as threats to be neutralized.

The result is a cradle-to-career system in which education serves power rather than challenging it. From kindergarten classrooms preaching Christian nationalism to public universities led by political appointees to debt traps disguised as colleges, Florida’s students are moving through a system designed not to liberate but to conform. The public is funding it. The powerful are steering it. And for millions of students and families, the promise of education as a ladder to opportunity is becoming another broken dream.

The question of who rules education in Florida has a chillingly clear answer. Those who profit from ignorance. Those who fear critical inquiry. Those who believe education should serve the powerful, not the people. Florida may be the future—but not one built on truth, justice, or enlightenment. It is a future built on control.

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Sources

Florida House Bill 1 (2023), Florida Legislature
Orlando Sentinel, “Florida Private Voucher Schools Often Fail Students. The State Still Pays.”
U.S. Department of Education, College Scorecard and IPEDS Data
Florida Department of Education, Private School Directory
Inside Higher Ed, “DEI Ban Signed in Florida”
Chronicle of Higher Education, “The New College Coup”
New York Times, “Florida’s Education Overhaul Has National Implications”
Council for National Policy, internal documents and reporting via The Intercept
IRS Form 990 filings for Keiser University, Ave Maria University, University of Miami
National Student Legal Defense Network, Complaints and Lawsuits Involving Florida Institutions
ProPublica, “The Billionaire Behind Ave Maria’s Catholic Utopia”
Hillsdale College, Barney Charter School Initiative: Partner School Directory and Curriculum

The Haves and Have Nots of Higher Education and Student Loan Debt

In a move that has raised eyebrows across Washington and beyond, President Donald Trump recently announced a plan to transfer the U.S. Department of Education’s vast student loan portfolio—totaling a staggering $1.8 trillion—to the Small Business Administration (SBA). This bold step is ostensibly designed to streamline the management of federal student loans, but it is also seen by many as the first move in a larger effort to dismantle the Department of Education entirely, reduce federal oversight, and privatize key aspects of the student loan system. Alongside this plan, there are growing discussions about eliminating essential borrower protections, including programs like Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF), Pay As You Earn (PAYE), Income-Contingent Repayment (ICR), and the Borrower Defense to Repayment program, all of which have offered critical relief to millions of students. Additionally, the rollback of Gainful Employment regulations—which were designed to protect students from predatory for-profit institutions—further signals a shift toward private sector control, which has historically benefited lenders over borrowers.

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The Alleged 'Rescue' of the Loan Portfolio

The White House has framed the transfer of the student loan portfolio to the SBA as a necessary step to relieve the Department of Education (ED) of a heavy burden, positioning the SBA as the new “caretaker” of the nation’s student debt. According to President Trump, the SBA—under the leadership of Kelly Loeffler—will now handle the $1.8 trillion student loan portfolio, while the Department of Education focuses on other key educational initiatives.

For some, the move seems like a fresh approach to a problem that has long plagued U.S. higher education: the overwhelming student debt crisis. However, a deeper look into the mechanics of the transfer suggests that this could be the first step toward a far more troubling goal: the dismantling of the federal student loan system and the privatization of debt, a shift that could harm millions of consumers in the process.

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The SBA’s Inexperience with Student Loans

The SBA, traditionally tasked with managing small business loans, lacks the expertise to effectively manage the complex structure of federal student loans, which include income-driven repayment plans, loan forgiveness programs, and various protections for struggling borrowers. With the agency also facing significant staffing cuts, it’s highly unlikely that the SBA will be able to competently handle such a vast and complicated portfolio—especially when 40% of these loans are already in default or behind on payments.

This raises an obvious question: is the SBA being set up to fail? Some insiders suggest that the failure of the SBA to properly manage the student loan portfolio could be deliberate—creating a crisis that would justify selling off the portfolio to private companies, thus privatizing the entire system.

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The Planned Failure: A Strategy for Privatization?

According to several former senior officials within the Department of Education, the transfer of the student loan portfolio to the SBA could be a calculated move to destabilize the federal loan system. The apparent failure of the SBA to manage the loans would then serve as a justification for transferring the loans to the private sector. This mirrors tactics used in other sectors where privatization was pursued under the guise of government inefficiency. The fear is that this move could ultimately lead to for-profit companies taking over the loan system, with borrowers facing higher interest rates, stricter repayment terms, and the loss of essential protections.

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Who Stands to Gain from Privatizing Student Loans?

The shift toward privatizing student loans stands to benefit several key players in the financial and educational sectors, particularly for-profit companies and private lenders who have long pushed for deregulation and profit-driven management of student debt. The primary beneficiaries would include:

1. Private Lenders and Financial Institutions: Banks, investment firms, and loan servicing companies are the most obvious winners in a privatized student loan system. With the federal government stepping back, these entities would gain control over the $1.8 trillion portfolio, allowing them to set higher interest rates, stricter repayment terms, and impose fees on borrowers. This would turn student loans into even more lucrative financial products for the private sector.

2. For-Profit Educational Institutions: For-profit colleges, which often rely on student loans to fund their operations, could also stand to gain. These institutions—many of which have faced significant scrutiny for high tuition costs and poor student outcomes—would benefit from a less regulated environment. Without the Gainful Employment regulations, which were designed to hold these institutions accountable for their job placement and earnings data, they would face fewer restrictions on their recruitment practices and financial dealings, potentially allowing them to continue enrolling students in expensive, low-quality programs.

3. Servicers and Debt Collection Agencies: Loan servicers and debt collection agencies that would likely take over the management of student loans in a privatized system stand to profit greatly. By controlling the servicing of student loans, these companies can increase their fees and aggressively pursue defaulting borrowers, further exacerbating the financial hardship for many students. These entities would benefit from a less regulated environment where the focus would shift toward profitability, often at the expense of borrowers.

4. Political Donors and Lobbyists: Financial institutions and for-profit education providers have historically been major political donors and lobbyists, particularly to policymakers who have pushed for deregulation of student loan systems. Privatization could provide these stakeholders with the opportunity to consolidate their power over the student loan industry, influencing policy decisions in their favor and ensuring continued access to profits from the student loan market.

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A History of Struggles: Lack of Oversight and Privatization Since the 1980s

The idea of privatizing student loans and dismantling federal oversight is not entirely new. In fact, the U.S. student loan system has been struggling for decades due to a lack of oversight and a trend toward privatization dating back to the 1980s. The federal government’s role as a guarantor of student loans—starting with the creation of the Guaranteed Student Loan (GSL) program in the 1960s—was eventually scaled back, leading to a rise in private student loans. As private lenders entered the student loan market, particularly during the 1990s and 2000s, the system became increasingly unregulated, leading to rising debt levels and predatory lending practices.

By the 1980s, the federal government’s reliance on private institutions to handle student loans led to a lack of transparency, accountability, and consumer protections. In particular, private lenders began to offer loans with fewer safeguards, contributing to the explosion of student loan debt and the proliferation of for-profit colleges that preyed on vulnerable students. The government, despite its involvement, increasingly stepped back from actively managing the loan system, leaving students with limited options for relief when they fell into financial distress.

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The Consequences of Deregulation: Elite Colleges and the Growing Educated Underclass

One of the most significant byproducts of the shift toward privatization and deregulation in U.S. higher education has been the growth of a growing educated underclass. While elite colleges have continued to thrive, expanding their endowments and increasing their tuition fees, a large segment of the population is left with a degree and overwhelming debt that fails to deliver on its promise. Over the past several decades, prestigious universities have only gotten wealthier, with many now sitting on endowments of billions of dollars. These institutions benefit from the student loan system, which allows students to take on more debt to afford high tuition costs, all while their wealthy alumni networks and expansive endowments only grow larger.

At the same time, a growing number of students from lower-income backgrounds—many of whom attend for-profit or underfunded public colleges—are graduating with significant debt and few prospects for stable, high-paying careers. This has created a growing “educated underclass,” where graduates with degrees struggle to find employment that pays enough to manage their loan repayment, further exacerbating wealth inequality.

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The Dangers of Future Issues: AI, Automation, and the Loss of Good Jobs

Looking to the future, the privatization of student loans and the increasing burden of student debt could be exacerbated by emerging technological shifts, particularly in the fields of artificial intelligence (AI) and automation. As industries evolve and more jobs become automated, many middle-class careers traditionally accessible to graduates may disappear or evolve into low-wage, low-security positions. This could lead to an even larger divide between the "haves" and "have-nots" in society, where only those with connections or elite educational backgrounds can secure stable, high-paying employment.

For students entering the workforce with massive student loan debt, this would present a troubling scenario where their ability to repay their loans becomes even more difficult as fewer well-paying jobs are available. This, in turn, would increase the financial strain on future generations of students who are already navigating a rapidly changing job market. For many, student loans could become an insurmountable barrier, keeping them trapped in cycles of debt that are impossible to escape.

Moreover, the increasing reliance on private companies to manage student loans, with their focus on profitability, could exacerbate these issues by offering fewer opportunities for income-driven repayment plans or relief options that account for the economic realities of an AI-powered, automation-driven economy. As the job market continues to shrink and evolve, the need for federal programs to support borrowers through tough economic times will only grow.

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The Impact of Eliminating Borrower Protections

The elimination of borrower protections—such as PSLF, PAYE, ICR, and Borrower Defense to Repayment—would significantly worsen the student loan crisis. Public Service Loan Forgiveness, for example, allows individuals working in essential public service careers to receive loan forgiveness after ten years of qualifying payments. Without this program, many public servants would face a lifetime of insurmountable debt. Similarly, income-driven repayment programs allow borrowers to repay loans based on their income, making it easier for those in low-paying fields to manage their debt.

The Borrower Defense to Repayment program provides vital relief to students who were defrauded by their institutions. Without strong enforcement of this program, students may have no recourse to seek relief from predatory schools. The rollback of Gainful Employment regulations could further expose students to the risks of attending for-profit institutions that fail to deliver on their promises.

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The Long-Term Fallout: A Dangerous Precedent

The long-term consequences of privatizing student loans could include exacerbating wealth inequality, widening the racial wealth gap, and creating an economic landscape where education debt is a permanent burden on a generation of students. If privatization moves forward, the financial burden of education will likely become a far more persistent and overwhelming problem, especially for those who can least afford it.

What’s particularly concerning is that in past crises, it’s the elites—wealthy colleges, financial institutions, and large corporations—that have consistently received the bulk of government bailouts. The same institutions that contribute the least to solving the country’s educational inequities continue to benefit from taxpayer-funded relief. If privatization moves forward, we cannot allow the same pattern to repeat itself. The majority of relief should go to those most burdened by student debt, not those who already have the means to navigate the system with ease.

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The Future of Higher Education Debt: A Call to Protect Federal Loan Programs

At the Higher Education Inquirer, we stand in full support of federal student loan forgiveness and repayment programs, including PSLF, PAYE, and ICR, as they offer essential pathways for borrowers, especially public service workers and low-income individuals. These programs provide vital relief to borrowers, allowing them to focus on their careers without the burden of overwhelming debt. We urge policymakers to protect, enhance, and expand these vital initiatives to ensure that education remains accessible and equitable for all.

As we continue to face challenges in higher education financing, it is crucial to learn from past mistakes and advocate for systems that prioritize the well-being of students, not profit. The proposed privatization of the student loan system threatens to undo decades of progress and burden future generations with lifelong debt. It is essential that we protect these programs and work toward a solution that prioritizes education and fairness over corporate interests.

President & Fellows, Overseers and Endowment: Harvard's Centers of Power

Harvard University, established in 1636, has long been a symbol of educational excellence and intellectual leadership. Yet, the power that underpins its prestige stretches beyond academia. It is shaped by a long history of governance, financial influence, and deep connections to elite sectors of politics, business, and finance. To understand Harvard’s true power, one must look at how its governance structures—its President & Fellows, Board of Overseers, and massive endowment—have evolved over time, and how these forces have perpetuated the university’s dominance, often at odds with its own stated ideals of inclusivity and social responsibility.

The Founding of Harvard: Roots in Slavery and Colonial Power

Harvard’s origins lie in the colonial era, when it was founded to train clergy and lay leaders for the Massachusetts Bay Colony. However, the university’s initial wealth and influence were, in part, fueled by the profits generated through slavery. Early benefactors of the institution were heavily invested in the slave trade, with their wealth derived from industries that relied on slave labor, particularly in the Caribbean and Southern American colonies. Harvard, as a result, was built upon the legacies of slavery—a complex and often forgotten chapter of its history.

In its early years, Harvard was a small, insular institution designed to cater to the colonial elite, focused largely on producing educated men who could serve in various clerical and academic positions. However, it was clear even then that those in positions of financial power held influence over the institution’s trajectory, a pattern that would only grow as Harvard expanded.

The Rise of Harvard's Governance: The Corporation and Overseers

By the 18th century, Harvard’s governance structure began to take shape. The President & Fellows of Harvard College, later known as the Harvard Corporation, became the central executive body. Comprised of the university's president and a small group of influential fellows, the Corporation held fiduciary responsibility for all decisions related to the university’s finances, policies, and strategic direction. This elite group, made up largely of wealthy businessmen, political leaders, and intellectuals, has continued to shape the university’s priorities ever since.

Meanwhile, the Board of Overseers, a larger and more advisory body, began to assume responsibility for providing guidance on academic matters and representing the interests of the broader Harvard community. Unlike the Fellows, the Overseers were elected by alumni and served as a check on the Corporation’s power. However, even the Overseers, while influential, were ultimately subordinate to the Corporation’s authority in matters of governance and institutional decisions.

This structure of governance—executive authority in the hands of a small, wealthy group—would prove to be a critical force in shaping the university’s development throughout the centuries. It also marked the beginning of a deep connection between Harvard and elite sectors of society, from local Boston elites to national political and financial figures.

Harvard's Endowment: A Financial Powerhouse

As the university grew in stature, so too did its endowment. By the 19th century, Harvard had begun to accumulate substantial wealth, much of it invested in land, property, and businesses tied to global trade. As a result, Harvard’s endowment began to wield increasing influence over the university’s operations. The Harvard Management Company (HMC), created to oversee the university’s massive endowment, became an essential player in Harvard’s financial operations.

The growth of the endowment allowed Harvard to operate with considerable financial independence. It could fund research, increase faculty salaries, and provide scholarships—all while maintaining a powerful influence over the broader academic world. As the endowment ballooned throughout the 20th century, it also gave Harvard an outsized role in global financial markets, reflecting the university’s transition from a regional educational institution to a global financial player.

However, the immense wealth of the endowment also raised ethical questions. Critics pointed out that the vast sums invested by Harvard often came from industries with questionable ethical practices, including fossil fuels, arms manufacturing, and exploitative labor practices. In recent decades, Harvard’s financial management has come under scrutiny for perpetuating global systems of inequality and environmental degradation—problems that often run counter to its educational and social missions.

Harvard's Complicated Legacy: Slavery, Assimilation of Native Americans, Neoliberalism

The legacy of slavery has continued to haunt Harvard well into the modern era. As the university's wealth grew, so too did the visibility of its entanglements with slavery. In recent years, historians and scholars have begun to reveal how Harvard's early benefactors—including major donors and founders—derived their fortunes from the slave trade. In 2021, the university published a report that detailed its historical ties to slavery, acknowledging that its financial success was built on the backs of enslaved people. The recognition of this history has led to calls for reparations, and for Harvard to take responsibility for its role in perpetuating systems of racial oppression.

Simultaneously, as Harvard’s financial and political clout grew, the university became increasingly aligned with neoliberal economic policies—policies that prioritize free markets, deregulation, and privatization. In the 1980s and 1990s, this embrace of neoliberalism became particularly visible as the university shifted focus from providing affordable, publicly accessible education to catering to the needs of a global elite. Harvard’s massive endowment, now managed in ways that often emphasized profitability above social responsibility, began to reflect broader trends within American society, where wealth became increasingly concentrated in the hands of the few.

Harvard’s relationship with Indigenous peoples has also been a source of significant controversy. In the 19th century, the university became involved in the forced assimilation of Native Americans through education. Harvard and other American institutions took part in programs designed to "civilize" Indigenous children, often by removing them from their families and communities and erasing their languages and cultures. This legacy of colonialism and cultural genocide, which was part of broader U.S. government policies, continues to shape Harvard’s interactions with Native American communities to this day. Despite recent initiatives aimed at improving outreach to Native students, Harvard has yet to fully reconcile with its historical role in this tragic chapter of U.S. history.

The Evolution of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) and Harvard’s Recent Backlash

In the latter half of the 20th century and into the 21st, Harvard made efforts to reform its policies and create a more inclusive environment for students of all backgrounds. Diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) became core tenets of the university’s public identity, and significant strides were made in opening the institution to historically marginalized groups. However, this commitment began to fray as political and financial pressures mounted.

The most high-profile challenge came in the form of legal battles surrounding affirmative action. In 2014, the group Students for Fair Admissions filed a lawsuit alleging that Harvard discriminated against Asian American applicants in favor of Black and Latino students. The case drew national attention, and Harvard's DEI policies became a lightning rod for conservative critics, who argued that such efforts undermined meritocracy.

In response to the lawsuit and increasing scrutiny from corporate donors, Harvard's commitment to DEI efforts began to wane. Critics argue that Harvard has increasingly prioritized maintaining its relationships with powerful financial backers, many of whom have conservative views on race and education. DEI initiatives, which were once central to Harvard’s mission, have become a flashpoint in the broader cultural wars that shape American politics.

The Pritzker Family and Harvard’s Connections to Wall Street and Political Power

Among the most influential figures on Harvard’s Board of Overseers is Penny Pritzker, a billionaire businesswoman and former U.S. Secretary of Commerce. A member of the powerful Pritzker family, whose wealth originates from the Hyatt hotel chain, Pritzker’s role highlights the intersection of wealth, politics, and education. Her tenure on the Board of Overseers has been marked by her advocacy for policies that align with neoliberal values—emphasizing corporate partnerships, privatization, and economic growth.

Harvard’s growing connections to Wall Street and corporate elites have further cemented its position as a key player in U.S. economic and political spheres. Many of the university’s alumni go on to hold influential positions in major corporations, government, and financial institutions. These connections have allowed Harvard to play a central role in shaping the policies of both local governments, like the city of Boston, and national politics. In turn, Harvard’s vast wealth—much of it untaxed due to its nonprofit status—has raised concerns about its influence in local communities and the broader national political landscape.

Reluctance to Pay Taxes and Its Influence in Boston

Harvard’s tax-exempt status has long been a source of controversy. As a nonprofit institution, Harvard does not pay property taxes, a decision that has caused tension with local residents in Boston. The university owns significant amounts of real estate in the city, and critics argue that Harvard’s tax exemptions deprive the city of revenue that could be used to fund essential services. Furthermore, the university’s presence in Boston has driven up property values, contributing to gentrification and the displacement of lower-income residents.

At the same time, Harvard’s influence extends far beyond Boston. Through its financial ties, political connections, and network of alumni, the university wields significant power in shaping U.S. policies on everything from education to economic regulation. This has led to concerns about the concentration of power at elite institutions like Harvard, which continue to act as gatekeepers for access to political and economic power.

Looking Ahead: Harvard’s Continued Influence and the Future of Higher Education

As Harvard navigates these complicated legacies, questions about its future remain. The university’s governance structures—the Corporation, the Board of Overseers, and the endowment—will continue to shape the direction of the institution for generations to come. However, the institution will have to grapple with the contradictions between its immense power and wealth and its claims to be an institution committed to social good. Can Harvard reconcile its past and present with the values of diversity, equity, and inclusion? Will the concentration of power and wealth within the university’s governance structure continue to undermine its claims to progressive ideals?

As the world watches, Harvard's next steps will be crucial not just for the future of the university, but for the broader role that elite institutions play in shaping global financial, political, and social systems. Only time will tell if Harvard can evolve into an institution that truly reflects the ideals it claims to uphold—or if it will continue to wield its immense power in service of a narrow, elite agenda.

For-Profit College Barons Backed Trump, But Now May Be Scared (David Halperin)

Many top for-profit college industry owners supported Donald Trump’s bid to return to the White House. They had benefitted when, during Trump’s first term, his education secretary, Betsy DeVos, largely ended federal regulatory and enforcement efforts to hold for-profit schools accountable for deceiving students and ripping off taxpayers. But some industry barons, having contributed to the Trump 2024 campaign, now may be scared by efforts of the new Trump administration, including Elon Musk’s DOGE team, to disrupt operations of the U.S. Department of Education. Both Trump and his new Secretary of Education Linda McMahon publicly suggested last week that the Department will be abolished.

Although the for-profit college industry endlessly complained that the Biden and Obama education departments were unfairly targeting the industry with regulations and enforcement actions, they now seem concerned about the possibility that the Trump administration will shutter the Department entirely, abandon the federal role in higher education oversight, and leave regulation to the states. They likely are even more frightened that the proposed gutting of the Department will interfere with the flow of billions in federal taxpayer dollars to their schools.

The Chronicle of Higher Education reports that Jason Altmire, the former congressman who is now the CEO of the largest lobbying group of for-profit colleges, Career Education Colleges and Universities (CECU), says that his schools are worried about the potential disruption of funding for federal student grants and loans. Altmire apparently also expressed concern that turning regulation over to the states could create problems for online schools that operate in multiple states, especially because some states have relatively strong accountability rules.

Many for-profit colleges receive most of their revenue — as much as the 90 percent maximum allowed by U.S. law — from federal taxpayer-supported student grants and loans. For-profit schools have received literally hundreds of billions in these taxpayer dollars over the past two decades, as much as $32 billion at the industry’s peak around 2010, and around $20 billion annually n0w.

But many for-profit schools have used deceptive advertising and recruiting to sell high-priced low quality college and career training programs that leave many students worse off than when they started, deep in debt and without the career advancement they sought. Dozens of for-profit schools have faced federal and state law enforcement actions over their abuses.

CECU (previously called APSCU and before that CCA) has included in its membership over the years many of the most abusive, deceptive school operations, including Corinthian Colleges, ITT Tech, Education Management Corp., Perdoceo, Center for Excellence in Higher Education, DeVry, Kaplan (now called Purdue University Global), and Ashford University (now called University of Arizona Global Campus). (Republic Report highlighted the bad actors on CECU’s membership list for many years; CECU removed the list from its website about four years ago.)

Florida couple Arthur and Belinda Keiser are among those who have benefited the most from CECU lobbying and taxpayer funding. The Keisers run for-profit Southeastern College and non-profit Keiser University, which collectively have received hundreds of million in federal education dollars over the years. They also are among the most politically active owners in the career college industry.

While Belinda Keiser has run, unsuccessfully, for the state legislature, Arthur Keiser has been one of the most aggressive lobbyists for the career college industry in Washington. He has been a dominant figure on the board of CECU, and he hired expensive lawyers to go all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court in a failed effort to block a settlement that provides debt relief to students who attended deceptive colleges, including Keiser University. During Trump’s first term, Arthur Keiser chaired NACIQI, the Department of Education’s advisory committee reviewing the performance of college accreditors.

The Keisers created controversy and were eventually penalized by the IRS for a shady 2011 conversion of Keiser University from for-profit to non-profit, in a deal that allowed the couple to continue making big money off the school. Keiser University has also settled cases with the Justice Department and the Florida attorney general over deceptive practices.

In the two years leading up to the November 2024 election, according to Federal Election Committee records, Belinda Keiser donated more than $250,000 to various Republican candidates and political committees, including $35,000 to the Trump 47 Committee, $10,300 to the Trump-affiliated Save America PAC, $3300 to the Trump Save America Joint Fundraising Committee, and $33,400 to the Republican National Committee.

Ultra-wealthy college owner Carl Barney was another big Trump 2024 donor. Barney operated the Center for Excellence in Higher Education, another troubling conversion from for-profit to non-profit that kept taxpayer money flowing into his bank accounts, for schools including CollegeAmerica and Independence University. Barney’s schools lost their accreditation, and then their federal aid, after the Colorado attorney general in 2020 won a lawsuit accusing CollegeAmerica of deceptive practices. (The case is still pending after an appeal.)

Amid a torrent of donations to Republican committees last fall totaling over $1.6 million, Barney donated $924,600 to the Trump 47 Committee, $74,500 to the Trump-supporting Make America Great Again PAC, and $247,800 to the Republican National Committee, according to federal records.

In a September post on his personal website, Barney explained that he liked that Trump “wants to work with Elon Musk to reduce spending, regulations, waste, and fraud in the federal government.”

What exactly waste, fraud, and abuse seems to mean in the context of the Trump/Musk effort is troubling. There is little evidence that what DOGE has found and shut down relates to actual fraud, abuse, or corruption.

Instead it appears that much of what Musk and DOGE have focused on is weakening or eliminating either (1) federal agencies that have been investigating Musk businesses, or businesses of other top Trump donors; or (2) agencies that work on priorities — such as equal opportunity for Americans or alleviation of poverty or disease overseas — that Trump or Musk dislike.

And the Trump team has been firing, across multiple federal agencies, the inspectors general, ethics watchdogs, and other top officials actually charged with rooting out waste, fraud, and abuse — further undermining the claim that the Trump team is trying to bring about more honest and efficient government.

It’s doubtful that even the heaviest sledgehammer DOGE attack would eliminate the federal student grants and loans that Congress has mandated to give low and moderate income Americans of all backgrounds a better chance to improve their lives through higher education. Assuming such financial aid will continue, then if Trump, Musk, and DOGE truly wanted to root out waste, fraud, and abuse, and save big money for taxpayers, one thing they could do is strengthen, rather than abolish, the Department of Education — not to keep the money flowing to all for-profit colleges, as CECU seems to want, but to advance efforts to ensure that taxpayer dollars go only to those colleges that are creating real benefits for students and for our economy.

That would mean enforcing and building on, not destroying, the Department of Education rules put in place by the Biden administration, including: the gainful employment rule, which creates performance standards to cut off aid to for-profit and career programs that consistently leave graduates with insurmountable debt; the borrower defense rule, which cancels the debts of students scammed by their schools and empowers the Department to go after those predatory schools to recoup the taxpayer money; and the 90-10 rule, which helps keep low-quality programs out of the federal aid program and reduces the risk that poor quality schools will target U.S. veterans and service members.

It would also mean continuing the Biden administration’s efforts to more aggressively evaluate the performance of the private college accrediting agencies that oversee colleges and serve as gatekeepers for federal student grants and loans.

Fighting waste, fraud, and abuse would also mean strengthening, not gutting, efforts to investigate and fight predatory college abuses by enforcement teams at the Department of Education, Federal Trade Commission, Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, Justice Department, Department of Veterans Affairs, and Department of Defense. Many deceptive school operations remain in business today, recruiting veterans, single parents, and others into low-quality, over-priced college programs; they include Perdoceo’s American Intercontinental and Colorado Technical University, Purdue University Global, University of Arizona Global Campus, DeVry University, Walden University, the University of Phoenix, South University, Ultimate Medical Academy, and UEI College.

Fighting waste, fraud, and abuse also would likely require a different higher ed leader at the Department than Nicholas Kent, the Virginia state official whom Trump has nominated to serve as Under Secretary of Education. Kent previously worked at CECU as a lobbyist advancing the interests of for-profit schools. Prior to that, he worked at Education Affiliates, a for-profit college operation that faced civil and criminal investigation and actions by the Justice Department for deceptive practices.

Diane Auer Jones, who held the same job in the first Trump administration, had a career background similar to Kent’s, and she twisted Department policies and actions to benefit predatory colleges. That is presumably the world CECU and its for-profit college barons want to restore: All the money, none of the accountability rules.

In the end, the predatory college owners may get what they want. Given the brazen self-dealing, and fealty to corporate donors, of the Trump-Musk administration, and the sharp elbows of paid-for congressional backers of the for-profit college industry like Rep. Virginia Foxx (R-NC), we will probably end up with the worst of all outcomes: the destruction of the Department of Education but a continued flow of taxpayer billions to for-profit schools, without meaningful accountability measures to ensure that everyday Americans are actually protected from waste, fraud, and abuse.

Americans should demand from Trump and Secretary McMahon a different course — one that provides educational opportunity for all and strengthens the U.S. economy by investing in higher education, while removing from the federal aid program the abusive colleges that rip off students and scam taxpayers.

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