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Showing posts sorted by relevance for query neoliberalism. Sort by date Show all posts

Monday, July 21, 2025

How Neoliberalism Haunts Our Lives: 24/7/365

Neoliberalism isn’t just an economic theory or a dry policy framework. It’s a lived reality that operates around the clock, shaping our lives in ways many people don’t fully see. Neoliberalism tells us that markets solve everything, that individual responsibility trumps social solidarity, and that human worth is best measured by productivity, consumption, and credentialing. Its presence is constant—at work, in education, in healthcare, in housing, even in our relationships.

This is not a new critique. But as the 21st century drags on and late capitalism becomes more extractive, predatory, and digitally surveilled, the impacts of neoliberal ideology have intensified. For the working class, for students, for adjuncts, for debtors, for renters, and for the chronically ill, neoliberalism is not an abstraction—it is a system of permanent exhaustion.


The Day Begins: Sleep-Deprived and Algorithmically Watched

The neoliberal day begins before the alarm rings. If you’re poor, you may be sleeping in your car or waking up in a crowded home. If you’re middle-class, the first thing you see is likely your phone, already feeding you metrics about your body (sleep scores, heart rate, missed messages). Neoliberal logic tells us our time must be optimized, even our rest must be productive.

Gig workers check their apps to see if they’ll get enough rides or orders to survive. Others log into remote jobs monitored by keystroke trackers, digital timesheets, or AI productivity tools. Control is constant, and surveillance is internalized: we discipline ourselves with planners, metrics, reminders, shame.


Education: Credentials Over Knowledge

For students, neoliberal education is a high-cost simulation of opportunity. Degrees are sold as investments in "human capital," with ever-rising tuition and debt. Public funding is replaced by predatory loans, branding consultants, and privatized ed-tech platforms. The curriculum is shaped by market demand, not civic responsibility. Liberal arts are gutted, and adjuncts are paid poverty wages while administrators balloon in number.

The university, once imagined as a space for critical thinking and collective inquiry, is now a debt-fueled credential mill—an HR pipeline for corporations, a subscription model of social mobility that rarely delivers.


Healthcare: A Business of Despair

Neoliberalism doesn’t take a break when you get sick. In fact, your illness becomes a profit center. In the U.S., the healthcare system is a financial trap. Insurance is often tied to employment; losing your job means losing your access to care. Big Pharma, hospital chains, and insurance conglomerates operate under the logic of maximizing shareholder value—not public health.

Even mental health is commodified. Wellness apps, “self-care” products, and Instagram therapy push the idea that individual solutions will fix systemic problems. Suffering is reframed as personal failure.


Housing: A Market, Not a Human Right

Housing insecurity is one of neoliberalism’s clearest failures. Real estate speculation, gentrification, and the financialization of housing have made shelter a luxury good. Renters face skyrocketing costs and eviction threats, while homes sit vacant as investment vehicles.

Public housing is stigmatized and underfunded. Homelessness becomes a criminal issue instead of a humanitarian one. You’re told to “pull yourself up” while the ladder is systematically removed.


Work and Labor: You're Always On

The 9-to-5 is no longer the norm. Neoliberal work is either hyper-precarious or all-consuming. The gig economy pretends to offer flexibility, but in practice it strips away rights, benefits, and security. Professional workers face unpaid overtime, side hustles, and an expectation of constant availability. Labor laws lag decades behind. Union-busting is normalized.

At the same time, those without work are treated with suspicion. Unemployment, disability, and even retirement are framed as moral failings or burdens on the system.


Nightfall: No Rest for the Weary

At night, the apps don’t sleep. Your data is still harvested. Your bank is still charging fees. Your landlord’s algorithm is still adjusting rent. Your student loan is still accruing interest. Your body, overstressed and under-cared-for, begins to break down.

Even dreams aren’t free: entertainment has been colonized by neoliberal culture, feeding you aspirational lifestyles and endless content to dull your exhaustion. Everything is monetized. Everything is a subscription.


Resistance in the Cracks

Despite its pervasiveness, neoliberalism is not invincible. People are resisting in small and large ways—through union organizing, mutual aid, alternative media, degrowth activism, and radical pedagogy. These aren’t just political choices; they are survival strategies.

But for resistance to grow, we must name the problem clearly. Neoliberalism is not just a phase of capitalism—it’s an ideology embedded in every institution and mediated by every platform. It isolates us, overworks us, and extracts from us while pretending to offer freedom and choice.


The 24/7/365 Trap

We live in neoliberalism’s world, but we don’t have to live by its rules. That starts with refusing its myths: that poverty is personal failure, that education is a private good, that health must be earned, that the market is sacred.

As long as neoliberalism governs our lives without challenge, inequality will deepen and democracy will continue to erode. The question isn’t whether we can afford to abandon neoliberalism—the question is whether we can survive if we don’t.


Sources:

  • Wendy Brown, Undoing the Demos

  • David Harvey, A Brief History of Neoliberalism

  • Sarah Jaffe, Work Won’t Love You Back

  • Marion Fourcade and Kieran Healy, “Seeing Like a Market”

  • Astra Taylor, The Age of Insecurity

  • Michael Hudson, The Destiny of Civilization

  • Maurizio Lazzarato, The Making of the Indebted Man

Friday, January 3, 2025

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Universities’ Neoliberal Audit Culture

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

History’s Emancipating Potential

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

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

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

Consciousness-Shifting Pedagogy

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

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

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

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

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

Resisting Educational “Neutrality”

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

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

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

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

Education as Mass Mobilization

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday, August 13, 2025

Trumpism, Neoliberalism, and the Abandoned Majority

In the ongoing battle between Trumpism and neoliberalism, much of the mainstream narrative paints these forces as diametrically opposed. In reality, while they clash on culture-war rhetoric and political branding, both camps operate in ways that protect entrenched wealth and power—especially within higher education.

Trumpism, with its populist veneer, frames itself as a rebellion against “the establishment.” Yet Donald Trump’s policies in office—including massive corporate tax cuts, deregulation favoring billionaires, and the rollback of labor protections—aligned closely with neoliberal orthodoxy. His administration stacked the Department of Education with for-profit college lobbyists and dismantled borrower protections, leaving indebted students vulnerable to predatory lending.

Neoliberalism, as embodied by centrist Democrats and much of the university establishment, champions “meritocracy” and global competitiveness, but often functions as a machine for upward wealth transfer. University leaders such as Princeton’s Christopher Eisgruber, Northwestern’s Michael Schill, Harvard’s Claudine Gay, Stanford’s Marc Tessier-Lavigne, Texas A&M’s M. Katherine Banks, and reformist chancellors Andrew Martin of Washington University in St. Louis and Daniel Diermeier of Vanderbilt oversee institutions that cut faculty jobs, outsource labor, and raise tuition, all while securing lucrative corporate and donor partnerships. These leaders, regardless of political branding, manage universities as if they were hedge funds with classrooms attached.

In both cases, the non-elite—students burdened by soaring debt, adjunct professors lacking job security, and underpaid university workers—remain locked in systems of extraction. Trumpist politicians rail against “liberal elites” while quietly protecting billionaire donors and for-profit education interests. Neoliberal university leaders publicly oppose Trumpism but maintain donor networks tied to Wall Street, Silicon Valley, and global finance, reinforcing the same structural inequality.

This false binary obscures the shared economic agenda of privatization, commodification, and concentration of wealth and power within elite institutions. For the working class and the educated underclass, there is no true champion—only differing marketing strategies for the same system of exploitation.


Sources

  • Henry A. Giroux, Neoliberalism’s War on Higher Education (Haymarket Books, 2014)

  • David Dayen, “Trump’s Fake Populism,” The American Prospect

  • Jon Marcus, “The New College Presidents and Their Corporate Mindset,” The Hechinger Report

  • U.S. Department of Education, Office of Federal Student Aid, “Borrower Defense to Repayment Reports”

  • New York Times coverage of Claudine Gay, Marc Tessier-Lavigne, Michael Schill, and M. Katherine Banks’ administrative records

Thursday, October 30, 2025

When Parenthood Feels Like a Trap: Regret, Trumpism, and the Educated Underclass

The recent MSN article “I Regret Having Children — It Has Stripped My Life of Meaning” is not just a private confession. It is a mirror reflecting a collapsing social order — one where parenting, education, and labor are all defined by debt, exhaustion, and disillusionment.

In today’s America, the family, the school, and the workplace no longer promise progress; they reproduce precarity. The personal regret of parents becomes a collective symptom of a society that demands self-sacrifice but offers little reciprocity.


The Privatization of Care and the Myth of the “Good Parent”

Since the Reagan era, neoliberal ideology has reduced social problems to personal failures. Families are told to work harder, plan better, and be grateful — while the state retreats from childcare, healthcare, and education.

Parenting, once understood as a shared civic project, is now a private ordeal. The “good parent” myth demands endless self-denial while ignoring the structural forces that make family life unsustainable: stagnant wages, unaffordable housing, unaffordable education, and the erosion of community networks.

The parent who whispers, “I regret having children,” isn’t rejecting love — they are acknowledging betrayal. They were promised fulfillment through family, but abandoned by a system that commodifies care and isolates suffering.


The Dobbs Decision and the Politics of Coerced Parenthood

The 2022 Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization ruling — which overturned Roe v. Wade — deepened this betrayal. By stripping away the constitutional right to abortion, the Supreme Court forced millions into unwanted pregnancies under conditions of economic and emotional strain.

This was no accident of jurisprudence. It was the political offspring of neoliberal neglect and Trump-era authoritarianism — a regime that exalts “family values” while defunding the social infrastructure that makes family life possible.

Dobbs represents coerced parenthood in a nation without paid leave, affordable childcare, or universal healthcare. It is the culmination of a system that insists on reproduction but refuses responsibility — transforming bodily autonomy into a political battleground while leaving families to fend for themselves.


Trumpism, Despair, and Manufactured Nostalgia

Trumpism feeds on the despair that neoliberalism creates. It promises to restore “traditional America” — stable jobs, strong families, obedient children — but it offers only resentment as consolation.

When exhausted parents or debt-ridden graduates look for meaning, Trumpian populism channels their frustration toward scapegoats: immigrants, educators, feminists, the poor. It converts structural despair into cultural war.

Trump’s America is a paradox: it glorifies the family while destroying the material base that sustains it. It preaches “Make America Great Again” while keeping its base desperate, indebted, and emotionally dependent on rage.


The Rise of the Educated Underclass

Nowhere is this contradiction clearer than in the making of the educated underclass — the millions of Americans who did everything “right” but found the social contract shredded beneath them.

They earned degrees, followed career advice, and invested in the myth of meritocracy. Yet decades of wage stagnation, precarious employment, and student debt have left them economically fragile and politically disoriented.

Many are parents who believed education would secure their children’s futures. Instead, they see their own children inheriting instability — locked out of homeownership, burdened with loans, and facing a world where credentials no longer guarantee dignity.

This educated underclass, spanning teachers, social workers, adjunct professors, nurses, and mid-level professionals, represents the human fallout of the neoliberal university and the marketized economy it feeds. Their disillusionment — like parental regret — is both personal and systemic.


Higher Education as a Debt Factory

Colleges once promised upward mobility; now they manufacture anxiety and debt. The family that sacrifices for tuition does so on faith that a degree still matters. But as corporate consolidation and automation erode stable work, that faith collapses.

Parents, particularly those from the working and lower-middle class, internalize this collapse as failure — not recognizing that the problem lies in a system that sells hope on credit. Their children, emerging into a gig economy with record debt, form the next generation of the educated underclass: credentialed, precarious, and politically volatile.


Regret as a Rational Response

In this context, parental regret is not deviance — it is rational. It reflects the exhaustion of trying to raise children, pay loans, and sustain meaning in a society where everything, including love, has been commodified.

It reflects the psychic cost of neoliberalism’s lie: that education, work, and family can still deliver self-realization without collective solidarity or public investment.

And it warns of what happens when a nation loses faith not only in its institutions but in the very act of reproduction itself.


Toward a Politics of Care and Repair

To break this cycle, we must confront the intertwined crises of reproduction, education, and inequality. A humane alternative would demand:

  • Universal reproductive freedom — protecting the right not to bear children, and the resources to raise them with dignity.

  • Tuition-free higher education and student debt relief — dismantling the educated underclass.

  • Guaranteed childcare, healthcare, and paid leave — treating parenting as collective labor, not private suffering.

  • Living wages and housing justice — reestablishing the economic base of real family life.

  • Democratized higher education — ending the capture of universities by finance and corporate boards.

Only by restoring care as a public good — not a private burden — can we move beyond regret toward renewal.


From Regret to Resistance

The parent who says, “I regret having children,” and the graduate who says, “My degree ruined my life,” are not failures. They are witnesses. Their grief exposes the moral bankruptcy of a system that exploits care, education, and aspiration for profit.

Trumpism thrives on that despair, offering nostalgia instead of justice. Neoliberalism rationalizes it, calling it “personal responsibility.”

But the truth is collective: meaning cannot survive where solidarity has been destroyed. The antidote to regret is not silence — it is organizing. It is rebuilding a society where care, education, and dignity are shared, not sold.


Sources

  • MSN News, “I Regret Having Children — It Has Stripped My Life of Meaning,” 2025.

  • Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, 597 U.S. ___ (2022).

  • Donath, Orna. Regretting Motherhood: A Sociopolitical Analysis. North Atlantic Books, 2017.

  • Fraser, Nancy. Cannibal Capitalism. Verso, 2022.

  • Brown, Wendy. Undoing the Demos. Zone Books, 2015.

  • Giroux, Henry. Neoliberalism’s War on Higher Education. Haymarket, 2014.

  • Hochschild, Arlie. Strangers in Their Own Land. The New Press, 2016.

  • Shaulis, Dahn. The College Meltdown (Higher Education Inquirer archives).

Thursday, November 6, 2025

Hyper Credentialism and the Neoliberal College Meltdown (Glen McGhee and Dahn Shaulis)

In the neoliberal era, higher education has become less a public good and more a marketplace of promises. The ideology of “lifelong learning” has been weaponized into an endless treadmill of hyper-credentialism — a cycle in which students, workers, and institutions are trapped in perpetual pursuit of new degrees, certificates, and micro-badges.


From Education to Signaling


Once, a college degree was seen as a path to citizenship and critical thought. Today, it’s a market signal — and an increasingly weak one. The bachelor’s degree no longer guarantees stable employment, so the system produces ever-more credentials: master’s programs, micro-certificates, “badges,” and other digital tokens of employability.

This shift doesn’t solve economic precarity — it monetizes it. Workers internalize the blame for their own stagnating wages, believing that the next credential will finally make them “market ready.” Employers, meanwhile, use credential inflation to justify low pay and increased screening, outsourcing the costs of training onto individuals.

A Perfect Fit for Neoliberalism

Hyper-credentialism is not a side effect; it’s a feature of the neoliberal education economy. It supports four pillars of the model:

Privatization and Profit Extraction – Public funding declines while students pay more. Each new credential creates a new revenue stream for universities, online program managers (OPMs), and ed-tech corporations.

Individual Responsibility – The structural causes of unemployment or underemployment are reframed as personal failures. “You just need to upskill.”

Debt Dependency – Students and workers finance their “reskilling” through federal loans and employer-linked programs, feeding the student-debt industry and its servicers.

Market Saturation and Collapse – As more credentials flood the market, each becomes less valuable. Institutions respond by creating even more credentials, accelerating the meltdown.

The Education-Finance Complex

The rise of hyper-credentialism is inseparable from the growth of the education-finance complex — a web of universities, private lenders, servicers, and Wall Street investors.
Firms like 2U, Coursera, and Guild Education sell the illusion of “access” while extracting rents from students and institutions alike. University administrators, pressured by enrollment declines, partner with these firms to chase new markets — often by spinning up online master’s programs with poor outcomes.

The result is a debt-driven ecosystem that thrives even as public confidence collapses. The fewer good jobs there are, the more desperate people become to buy new credentials. The meltdown feeds itself.

Winners and Losers

Winners: Ed-tech executives, university administrators, debt servicers, and the politicians who promote “lifelong learning” as a substitute for wage growth or labor rights.

Losers: Students, adjunct faculty, working-class families, and the public universities hollowed out by austerity and privatization.

The rhetoric of “upskilling” and “personal growth” masks a grim reality: a transfer of wealth from individuals to financialized institutions under the guise of opportunity.

A System That Can’t Redeem Itself

As enrollment declines and public trust erodes, the industry doubles down on micro-credentials and “stackable” pathways — small fixes to a structural crisis. Each badge, each certificate, is sold as a ticket back into the middle class. Yet every new credential devalues the old, producing diminishing returns for everyone except those selling the product.

Hyper-credentialism thus becomes both the symptom and the accelerant of the college meltdown. It sustains the illusion of mobility in a collapsing system, ensuring that the blame never reaches the architects of austerity, privatization, and financialization.

Sources and Further Reading

Brown, Wendy. Undoing the Demos: Neoliberalism’s Stealth Revolution.

Giroux, Henry. Neoliberalism’s War on Higher Education.

Cottom, Tressie McMillan. Lower Ed: The Troubling Rise of For-Profit Colleges in the New Economy.

The Higher Education Inquirer archives on the college meltdown, OPMs, and the debt economy.

Tuesday, July 22, 2025

Neoliberalism, Accreditation, and the Endless Reinvention of Higher Ed Scams

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 sprawling, trillion-dollar ecosystem of American higher education—built on trust, hope, and credentials—fraud has been a constant companion. And under neoliberalism, it doesn’t just survive. It adapts, multiplies, and thrives.

The case of Anthony Bieda and the newly formed National Association for Academic Excellence (NAAE) is a vivid reminder of how this ecosystem protects and even rewards those who have failed the public. Bieda, a former executive at the disgraced Accrediting Council for Independent Colleges and Schools (ACICS), is now fronting a fresh accreditation startup, backed by conservative donors and political forces aligned with Donald Trump’s vision for higher ed deregulation.

NAAE’s mission is to provide a “holistic,” “anti-woke” alternative to traditional accreditors, evaluating colleges not on outcomes like graduation rates or job placement, but on how they shape the “human person.” It's vague, ideological, and intentionally opaque. Even Bieda admits the metrics are a secret—soon to be intellectual property.

Fraud in American higher education didn’t start with Trump University or Corinthian Colleges. It dates back to the 19th century, when diploma mills sold degrees like snake oil. In the early 20th century, accreditation systems emerged to clean up the mess—but fraud simply evolved. As the federal government opened the spigot of student aid after World War II, for-profit colleges and shady operators followed the money.

By the 2000s, the con had been professionalized. Publicly traded companies like Corinthian and ITT Tech learned how to game the system, using slick advertising, inflated job placement rates, and predatory recruiting to rake in billions in Title IV funds. The students—often low-income, Black, Latino, veterans, or single mothers—were left with broken promises and ballooning debt.

The watchdogs failed them. And some, like ACICS, weren’t just negligent—they were complicit.

In theory, accreditors are gatekeepers. In practice, they’ve too often been enablers. Accreditation bodies are funded by the very institutions they review, leading to deep structural conflicts of interest. ACICS became notorious for accrediting schools that federal and state regulators had flagged as predatory. After years of scrutiny, it was finally shut down in 2022.

Yet here we are, three years later, with ACICS’s former leader launching a new accrediting agency, this time cloaked in the language of "freedom of thought" and "anti-wokeness." Backed by the American Academy of Sciences and Letters (AASL), which insists it’s apolitical despite pushing overt culture war themes, NAAE is asking to be trusted with federal gatekeeping power.

It’s neoliberalism in action: dismantle public systems, defang oversight, and recycle failed leaders with fresh branding. The logic isn’t about protecting students—it’s about deregulating markets under the guise of reform.

The digital age has only made things worse. Online colleges with low academic standards, limited faculty oversight, and profit-driven motives are booming. AI will soon be used not just in instruction and grading, but in accreditation assessments themselves. NAAE promises to use AI to detect inconsistencies and enforce its vague standards. But when the standards themselves are ideological and untested, automation becomes a smokescreen.

Meanwhile, shady consultants, student loan relief scammers, and credentialing platforms are multiplying. It's not just about bad schools anymore—it’s an entire financialized ecosystem that treats students as data points and debtors.

Occasionally, the public sees the fraud for what it is. Corinthian and ITT collapsed. Whistleblowers have emerged. Borrower defense lawsuits have won relief. But like cockroaches, fraudsters scatter and reassemble elsewhere. They form new schools, new agencies, new lobbies. They rebrand and wait for the political winds to shift.

And with Trump pushing to dismantle the Department of Education and rewrite accreditation rules by executive order, the roaches are back in the kitchen.

At the Higher Education Inquirer, we believe fraud is not just a byproduct of capitalism—it’s a feature of an underregulated, investor-driven model of education. The solution is not to invent new accreditors with old ideas, but to demand radical transparency and public accountability.

That means open data on outcomes, default rates, and executive pay. It means public audits of accreditor decisions. It requires whistleblower protections for staff and students. And it must include criminal and financial penalties for institutional fraud.

Because fraudsters are like cockroaches. You may never eliminate them all—but you can turn on the lights, close the cracks, and make it a lot harder for them to scurry back into power.

Sources
Theo Scheer, “He Helped Lead a Disgraced College Accreditor. Under Trump, He Might Have Another Shot.” The Chronicle of Higher Education, July 21, 2025
U.S. Department of Education actions on ACICS (2016–2022)
Higher Education Inquirer reporting on for-profit colleges, accreditation failures, and Trump-era education policy
Interviews with whistleblowers and former students of collapsed institutions

Monday, October 27, 2025

The College Meltdown: A Retrospective

[In 2017, we collaborated with Crush the Street on a video describing the College Meltdown.]  

“Education is not merely a credentialing system; it is a humanizing act that fosters connection, purpose, and community.”


Origins

The College Meltdown began in the mid-2010s as a blog chronicling the slow collapse of U.S. higher education. Rising tuition, mounting student debt, and corporatization were visible signs, but the deeper crisis was structural: the erosion of public accountability and mission.

By 2015, the warning signs were unmistakable to us. On some campuses, student spaces were closed to host corporate “best practices” conferences. At many schools, adjunct instructors carried the bulk of teaching responsibilities, often without benefits, while administrators celebrated innovation. Higher education was quietly being reshaped to benefit corporations over students and communities — a true meltdown.


Patterns of the Meltdown

Enrollment in U.S. colleges began declining as early as 2011, reflecting broader demographic shifts: fewer children entering the system and a growing population of older adults. Small colleges, community colleges, and regional public universities were hardest hit, while flagship institutions consolidated wealth and prestige.

Corporate intermediaries known as Online Program Managers (OPMs) managed recruitment, marketing, and course design, taking large portions of tuition while universities retained risk. Fully automated robocolleges emerged, relying on AI-driven templates, predictive analytics, and outsourced grading. While efficient, these systems dehumanized education: students became data points, faculty became monitors, and mentorship disappeared.

“Robocolleges and AI-driven systems reduce humans to data points — an education stripped of connection is no education at all.”


Feeding the AI Beast

As part of our effort to reclaim knowledge and influence public discourse, we actively contributed to Wikipedia. Over the years, we made more than 12,000 edits on higher education topics, ensuring accurate documentation of predatory practices, adjunct labor, OPMs, and corporatization. These edits both informed the public and, inadvertently, fed the AI beast — large language models and AI systems that scrape Wikipedia for training data now reflect our work, amplifying it in ways we could never have predicted.

“By documenting higher education rigorously, we shaped both public knowledge and the datasets powering AI systems — turning transparency into a tool of influence.”


Anxiety, Anomie, and Alienation

The College Meltdown documented the mental health toll of these transformations. Rising anxiety, feelings of anomie, and widespread alienation were linked to AI reliance, dehumanized classrooms, insecure faculty labor, and societal pressures. Students felt like credential seekers; faculty suffered burnout.

“Addressing the psychological and social effects of dehumanized education is essential for ethical recovery.”


Trump, Anti-Intellectualism, and Fear in the Era of Neoliberalism

The project also addressed the broader political and social climate. The Trump era brought rising anti-intellectualism, skepticism toward expertise, and a celebration of market logic over civic and moral education. For many, it was an era of fear: fear of surveillance, fear of litigation, fear of being marginalized in a rapidly corporatized, AI-driven educational system. Neoliberal policies exacerbated these pressures, emphasizing privatization, metrics, and competition over community and care.

“Living under Trump-era neoliberalism, with AI monitoring, corporate oversight, and mass surveillance, education became a space of anxiety as much as learning.”


Quality of Life and the Call for Rehumanization

Education should serve human well-being, not just revenue. The blog emphasized Quality of Life and advocated for Rehumanization — restoring mentorship, personal connection, and ethical engagement.

“Rehumanization is not a luxury; it is the foundation of meaningful learning.”


FOIA Requests and Whistleblowers

From the start, The College Meltdown relied on evidence-based reporting. FOIA (Freedom of Information Act) requests were used to obtain internal communications, budgets, and regulatory filings, shining light on opaque practices. Whistleblowers, including adjunct faculty and staff at universities and OPMs, provided firsthand testimony of misconduct, financial malfeasance, and educational dehumanization. Their courage was central to the project’s mission of transparency and accountability.

“Insider testimony and public records revealed the hidden forces reshaping higher education, from corporate influence to predatory practices.”


Historical Sociology: Understanding the Systemic Collapse

The importance of historical sociology cannot be overstated in analyzing the decline of higher education. By examining the evolution of educational systems, we can identify patterns of inequality, the concentration of power, and the commodification of knowledge. Historical sociology provides the tools to understand how past decisions and structures have led to the current crisis.

“Historical sociology reveals, defines, and formulates patterns of social development, helping us understand the systemic forces at play in education.”


Naming Bad Actors: Accountability and Reform

A critical aspect of The College Meltdown was the emphasis on naming bad actors — identifying and holding accountable those responsible for the exploitation and degradation of higher education. This included:

  • University Administrators: Prioritizing profit over pedagogy.

  • Corporate Entities: Robocolleges and OPMs profiting at the expense of educational quality.

  • Political Figures and Ultraconservatives: Promoting policies that undermined public education and anti-intellectualism.

“Holding bad actors accountable is essential for meaningful reform and the restoration of education's ethical purpose.”


[In 2016, we called out several bad actors in for-profit higher education, including CEOs Jack Massimino, Kevin Modany, and Todd Nelson.] 

Existential Aspects of Climate Change

The blog also examined the existential dimensions of climate change. Students and faculty face a dual challenge: preparing for uncertain futures while witnessing environmental degradation accelerate. Higher education itself is implicated, both as a contributor through consumption and as a forum for solutions. The looming climate crisis intensifies anxiety, alienation, and the urgency for ethical, human-centered education.

“Climate change makes the stakes of education existential: our survival, our knowledge, and our moral responsibility are intertwined.”


Mass Speculation and Financialization

Another critical theme explored was mass speculation and financialization. The expansion of student debt markets, tuition-backed bonds, and corporate investments in higher education transformed students into financial instruments. These speculative dynamics mirrored broader economic instability, creating both a moral and systemic crisis for the educational sector.

“When education becomes a commodity for speculation, learning, mentorship, and ethical development are subordinated to profit and risk metrics.”


Coverage of Protests and Nonviolent Resistance

The College Meltdown documented student and faculty resistance: tuition protests, adjunct labor actions, and campaigns against predatory OPM arrangements. Nonviolent action was central: teach-ins, sit-ins, and organized campaigns demonstrated moral authority and communal solidarity in the face of systemic pressures, litigation, and corporate intimidation.


Collaboration and Resistance

Glen McGhee provided exceptional guidance, connecting insights on systemic collapse, inequality, and credential inflation. Guest authors contributed across disciplines and movements, making the blog a living archive of accountability and solidarity:

Guest Contributors:
Bryan Alexander, Ann Bowers, James Michael Brodie, Randall Collins, Garrett Fitzgerald, Erica Gallagher, Henry Giroux, David Halperin, Bill Harrington, Phil Hill, Robert Jensen, Hank Kalet, Neil Kraus, the LACCD Whistleblower, Wendy Lynne Lee, Annelise Orleck, Robert Kelchen, Debbi Potts, Jack Metzger, Derek Newton, Gary Roth, Mark Salisbury, Gary Stocker, Harry Targ, Heidi Weber, Richard Wolff, and Helena Worthen.


Lessons from the Meltdown

The crisis was systemic. Technology amplified inequality. Corporate higher education rebranded rather than reformed. Adjunctification and labor precarity became normalized. Communities of color and working-class students suffered disproportionately.

Dehumanization emerged as a central theme. AI, automation, and robocolleges prioritized efficiency over mentorship, data over dialogue, and systems over human relationships. Rising anxiety, anomie, and alienation reflected the human toll.

“Rehumanization, mentorship, community, transparency, ethical accountability, and ecological awareness are essential to restore meaningful higher education.”


Looking Forward

As higher education entered the Trump era, its future remained uncertain. Students, faculty, and communities faced fear under neoliberal policies, AI-driven monitoring, mass surveillance, litigation pressures, ultraconservative influence, climate crises, and financial speculation. Will universities reclaim their role as public goods, or continue as commodified services? The College Meltdown stands as a testament to those who resisted dehumanization and anti-intellectualism. It also calls for Quality of Life, ethical practice, mental well-being, environmental responsibility, and Rehumanization, ensuring education serves the whole person, not just the bottom line. 


Sources and References

  • Washington, Harriet A. Medical Apartheid. Doubleday, 2006.

  • Rosenthal, Elisabeth. An American Sickness. Penguin, 2017.

  • Skloot, Rebecca. The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. Crown, 2010.

  • Nelson, Alondra. Body and Soul. University of Minnesota Press, 2011.

  • Paucek, Chip. “2U and the Growth of OPMs.” EdSurge, 2021. link

  • Ravitch, Diane. The Death and Life of the Great American School System. Basic Books, 2010.

  • Alexander, Bryan. Academia Next. Johns Hopkins University Press, 2020.

  • U.S. Department of Education. “Closed School Information.” 2016–2020. link

  • Federal Reserve Bank of New York. Student Debt Statistics, 2024. link

  • Wayback Machine Archive of College Meltdown Blog: link

Thursday, July 24, 2025

Release All the Epstein Files

More than five years after Jeffrey Epstein’s suspicious death in federal custody, the full truth about his vast network of sexual abuse, elite privilege, and systemic protection remains locked behind closed doors. Despite high-profile arrests, mainstream media coverage, and multiple court battles, the U.S. government and key institutions—including major universities—have still not released the complete set of Epstein-related documents. The Higher Education Inquirer joins growing public calls: release all the Epstein files now.

This is not just about one man or even a circle of powerful friends. It is an indictment of a broader system—a grotesque synergy of patriarchy and neoliberalism—that enables elite impunity while systematically devaluing the lives of the vulnerable.

The Web of Secrecy

The known facts are damning enough. Jeffrey Epstein, a convicted sex offender with deep ties to academia, finance, royalty, and intelligence services, was allowed to operate with virtual impunity for decades. He funded elite universities like Harvard and MIT. He gained legitimacy through connections to figures like Bill Clinton, Donald Trump, Prince Andrew, and tech moguls. He was gifted a sweetheart plea deal in Florida in 2008, allowing him to avoid serious jail time despite credible allegations from dozens of underage survivors.

Even after his re-arrest in 2019, the system again failed: Epstein died in custody under circumstances that have never been credibly explained. Key surveillance footage went missing. Guards fell asleep. No high-ranking accomplices were charged—only Ghislaine Maxwell, who remains silent behind bars.

Court documents have trickled out—most recently in January 2024, when hundreds of pages from a defamation suit involving Virginia Giuffre were unsealed. But these documents were heavily redacted and incomplete. Names were obscured. The network remains only partially visible. The Department of Justice, the FBI, and several universities still withhold key information under claims of “privacy” and “national security.”

Whose privacy? Whose security? Certainly not that of the survivors.

An Indictment of Patriarchy

At its core, this is a story about the exploitation of women and girls, enabled by a patriarchal power structure that routinely protects the powerful at the expense of the powerless. Epstein's crimes were not hidden in a shadowy underworld—they were committed in mansions, on private islands, in Ivy League offices, and aboard private jets.

Many of his victims were teenage girls from economically precarious families. Some were Black, Latina, or Eastern European. They were groomed, trafficked, silenced, and disbelieved. Their trauma was commodified while their abuser was shielded by lawyers, donors, and university administrators.

To treat this merely as a “sex scandal” is to ignore the structural forces at work. Epstein's operation was not a fluke; it was a feature of a society that commodifies women's bodies, deifies the ultra-wealthy, and demands obedience from institutions that should serve the public interest.

A Neoliberal Failure

Epstein’s reach into higher education and finance is a symptom of neoliberalism’s rot: where ethics are subordinated to endowments, where philanthropy buys silence, and where universities compete for the favor of billionaires rather than serve truth or justice.

How did a man with no college degree and no scientific credentials end up with offices at Harvard and deep ties to MIT’s Media Lab? Why did major figures—Bill Gates, Alan Dershowitz, Larry Summers, Marvin Minsky, and others—accept meetings, flights, and funding without asking harder questions? And why have most of these institutions still not released full internal reviews?

Neoliberal higher education sold its soul for prestige and funding. By chasing Epstein’s money, it became complicit.

This is also true of elite media and political networks. Many journalists, editors, and executives knew about Epstein years before 2019. ABC News reportedly squashed a story in 2015. Powerful names pressured platforms and prosecutors. A “free press” operating under corporate control often becomes an accomplice to coverup.

What’s at Stake

By continuing to withhold the Epstein files, U.S. institutions deepen public distrust and prolong injustice. Survivors deserve full accountability. The public deserves to know who participated, who enabled, and who covered it up.

This is not about voyeurism or scandal-chasing. It is about transparency, justice, and systemic reform. We cannot begin to dismantle the structures that enabled Epstein without exposing them fully.

There is no legitimate reason for the government, law enforcement, or publicly funded universities to sit on thousands of sealed documents—especially when they may implicate individuals who still hold influence over public policy, education, and media.

Release Everything

We call for:

  • The Department of Justice to release all non-classified documents related to Epstein, including client lists, flight logs, financial records, and communications.

  • Universities like Harvard, MIT, and Arizona State to disclose all funding sources, correspondence, and internal reviews involving Epstein and his associates.

  • All sealed court filings involving Epstein and Maxwell—unless doing so would endanger survivors—to be made public.

  • An independent, survivor-led truth and reconciliation commission to oversee disclosure and redress.

The Fight Is Bigger Than Epstein

Jeffrey Epstein is dead, but the system that protected him is very much alive. It is a system built on patriarchal control, neoliberal corruption, and elite impunity. Releasing the files is a first step toward dismantling that system.

Until then, every redaction is an act of complicity. Every delay is a betrayal of justice.

Release all the Epstein files. Now.


If you are a survivor of sexual violence or abuse and need support, call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 800.656.HOPE (4673). Confidential help is available 24/7.

Saturday, June 21, 2025

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.