Carl Barney, Ex-Owner of Deceptive For-Profit Colleges, Donates Big to Trump (David Halperin)

Carl Barney, the ultra-wealthy former owner of a chain of collapsed for-profit colleges, is the third biggest California-based donor to efforts to elect Donald Trump in 2024, the Los Angeles Times reports today.

Barney has donated $924,600 to the Trump 47 Committee, according to federal records.

Like Donald Trump, who in 2016 paid $25 million to settle civil charges by New York’s attorney general that his unaccredited real estate school, Trump University, defrauded its students, Barney saw his schools shut down after law enforcement agencies and former students went to court over claims of deceptive practices.

Barney explained his reasons for supporting Trump in a fascinating post last month on his personal website.

According to Barney, Trump “approaches the job of President as a businessman, not a politician,” which Barney sees as “mostly a major strength.”

“I’m aware of President Trump’s shortcomings,” Barney acknowledges, “but I won’t criticize him here. (If you want criticism, you’ll find all you need in the popular ‘news’ media.)”

Barney evaluates Trump’s term in office and concludes that the ex-president “significantly improved the individual freedom of Americans to pursue their goals with less government hindrance.”

While Barney concedes that he does not like Trump’s “proposed tariffs and some of his economics,” he likes that Trump “wants to work with Elon Musk to reduce spending, regulations, waste, and fraud in the federal government.

What doesn’t Barney like about Kamala Harris? A number of things, but he zeroes in on this: “Kamala Harris is an avowed enemy of private career colleges and boasts about closing them. Her boasts reveal her disregard for the schools’ students and teachers, as well as the entrepreneurs and investors who created the schools.” Harris, Barney concludes, “holds the anti-freedom values common to radical leftists.” He warns, “These people hate profit, business, and businessmen.”

Barney prepares his audience for the attacks he will face for his endorsement. “Since my contribution to President Trump will be public,” he writes, “I know that I will become more of a political target than I’ve been over the last 10 years. I’ve been a target of trolls, lawfare, and political operatives who finally destroyed my beautiful colleges. I know they will now target me with renewed force and energy. That’s something I will have to confront.”

Barney concludes his post with this unifying message, “If anyone sees something wrong with Making America Great Again (MAGA), then they’re not friends of mine, nor of yours.”

While Barney’s focus on Harris’s role in taking on abusive for-profit colleges is no surprise, his identification of fighting government waste, fraud, and abuse as a key policy priority for him is particularly rich, given his role in running a college operation, the Center for Excellence in Higher Education (CEHE), that received billions in federal taxpayer dollars and ultimately was found liable for deceiving students — and given his schools’ troubling conversion to tax-free non-profit status in a deal that increased his staggering wealth.

In August 2020, following an extensive trial, a Colorado state court sided with that state’s attorney general and found CEHE, its CollegeAmerica school, Carl Barney, and CEHE CEO Eric Juhlin liable for deceptive practices and awarded a $3 million judgment.

The Colorado court found that Barney’s schools used a detailed playbook to manipulate vulnerable students into enrolling in high-priced, low-quality programs; that the schools directed admissions representatives to “enroll every student,” regardless of whether the student would likely graduate; that the schools’ recruiters and advertisements greatly overstated starting salaries that graduates could earn; and that the schools falsely inflated graduation rates.

In April 2021, Independence’s accreditor, ACCSC, ended its approval of Independence University, which by then was CEHE’s main school, effectively repealing its eligibility for federal student grants and loans. Soon after, the U.S. Department of Education restricted the flow of such aid. In the wake of those developments, CEHE shut down classes and laid off most staff.

CEHE and the Colorado attorney general’s office were back in the state trial court in Denver this week, after high-priced lawyers for Barney pursued an appeal to the Colorado Supreme Court that resulted in an order requiring the trial judge to make some additional findings.

Barney also used clever lawyers and accountants to keep making big money off the CEHE schools even after he converted them to non-profit status. When for-profit operations are converted to non-profit in such a manner, U.S. taxpayers can pay a big price.

Although its schools are shuttered, CEHE still faces additional legal challenges. The U.S. Justice Department is moving ahead with a long-pending lawsuit in which it has joined whistleblowers in pursuing False Claims Act fraud charges against the schools. The federal Consumer Financial Protection Bureau has pursued a separate investigation into CEHE’s private loan practices.

CEHE, despite the probes, bad publicity, and collapse of its schools, has continued trying to collect the high-interest private loan debt it created for its broke former students.

And CEHE has portrayed itself as a victim of a political conspiracy against it, with ongoing vitriol on Twitter from former CEO Eric Juhlin, whom the Department of Education took the rare step of suspending from federal contracting. More attacks on CEHE critics, and the Colorado attorney general office and court, have come from Barney.

Barney has charged on his grievance-heavy blog that the case brought by the Colorado AG against his schools is a “horror story of government corruption,” and “a multi-agency collusion to put schools out of business” — a supposed plot that involved not only a senior assistant Colorado attorney general, but also the executive director of accreditor ACCSC, officials of the U.S. Department of Eduction, and “the cabal of progressive haters of private colleges (David Halperin, Robert Shireman, entities funded by Arnold Ventures, Sen. Elizabeth Warren, and Sen. Richard Durbin).”

In December 2022, CEHE took its grievance campaign to a new low by suing the United States government for $500 million in the U.S. Court of Claims, asserting, as a press release statement by Juhlin contended, that the Department of Education “in coordination with ideological confederates… has been on a campaign to cripple and close as many private career colleges as possible” and that CEHE’s schools were “a victim of this campaign.”

As we reported yesterday, billionaire Betsy DeVos, who helped Barney and other predatory college operators as Donald Trump’s secretary of education but resigned over Trump’s incitement of the deadly January 6 assault on the U.S. Capitol, recently donated $250,000 to America PAC, the pro-Trump super PAC created by Musk.

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

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

How might we do climate action in academia under a second Trump administration? (Bryan Alexander)

With the reelection of Donald Trump, a candidate who has flaunted his desire for autocracy—aided and abetted by a Republican-controlled Congress that will not constrain him with guardrails—the United States is now poised to become an authoritarian state ruled by plutocrats and fossil fuel interests. It is now, in short, a petrostate.

–professor Michael Mann, Bulletin of Atomic Scientists

How can we do climate crisis work within the higher education ecosystem under a second Trump administration?

With today’s post I’d like to explore strategic options in the present and near future. This is for everyone, but I’ll conclude with some self-reflection. My focus here will be on the United States, yet not exclusively so.

(I’ve been tracking possibilities for a Trump return for a while. Here’s the most recent post.)
Climate change under Trump: pressures on higher education

To begin with, the threat is that president Trump will undo federal support for climate action across the board (for evidence of this, see statements in Agenda 47, Project 2025, and elsewhere). Beyond the federal government, Trump can cause spillover effects at state and local levels. This should strengthen red states, counties, and cities in anti-climate policies and stances.

That governmental change will likely have direct impacts on higher education. About two thirds of American colleges and universities are public, meaning state-owned and -directed and therefore quite exposed to political pressures. Academics working in those institutions will be vulnerable to those forces, depending on their situation (institutional type, what a government actually does, the structural supports for units and individuals). How many academics – faculty, staff, students – will be less likely to undertake or support climate action? Will senior administrators be similarly disinclined to take strategic direction for climate purposes?

Beyond governments, how would the return of Trump to national power, complete with Republican control of Congress and the Supreme Court, shape private entities in their academic work? I’m thinking here of non-governmental funders, such as foundations, along with the many businesses which work with post-secondary education (publishers, ed tech companies, food service, etc.). Researchers studying global warming might have a harder time getting grants. Some funders might back off of academics doing climate work of all kinds. This can impact private as well as public academic institutions.

On the international side, Trump’s promised withdrawal from the Paris agreement and his repeated dismissal of climate change might make it harder for American academics to connect with global partners. Without simplifying too much, non-American academics might find Trump 2.0 an extra barrier to partnering with peers in the United States, especially if their national or local governments also took up anti-climate positions. International businesses developing decarbonization goods and services might step back from a newly Trumpified America (here’s one recent example).

Beyond those entities we should expect various forms of cultural resistance to climate work. Leaders from Trump and Vance on down can stir up popular attitudes and actions; the anti-immigrant focus on Springfield, Ohio gives one example. Politically-engaged individuals can challenge, threaten, or attack academics whom they see as doing harmful actions along climate lines.

On the other hand, academics might draw support from governments, businesses, nonprofits, and individuals who resist MAGA and seek to pursue climate goals. We could see governmental climate energies devolve below the federal level to states and below. Hypothetically, a professor in, say, California or Vermont might fare better than peers in Texas or South Carolina.

To be fair, political boundaries might not be cut and dried. Climate disasters might change minds. Republicans who benefit from the surviving pieces of Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act might decide not to oppose academics doing climate work. The low costs of solar can trump (as it were) ideology. And insurance companies seem likely to continue their forceful actions of denying coverage and increasing fees in especially endangered areas.

I’ve been speaking of the academic population as a whole, but we should bear in mind the district experience of campus leaders (presidents, chancellors, system administrators, provosts, vice presidents, deans) in this situation. They play a decisive role in supporting climate action through setting strategic directions, developing programs, and, of course, providing funding. In my experience of researching academic climate action and thinking I’ve found this population to be, all too often, resistant to the idea for a variety of reasons: perceived lack of faculty interest; concerns about board/state government politics; anxieties about community response; fears of financial challenges. Then the Gaza protests happened and campus leaders seem to me even more nervous about taking public stances. How will they act under a new Trump administration?

Recall that politicians can bypass those leaders. The recent Texas A&M story is illustrative in this regard. A state politician decided that the university should no longer offer a LGBTQ studies minor. Campus faculty and its president refused to end the program, but the institution’s board unilaterally terminated it. It’s easy to imagine parallel cases for climate activity, from offering a sustainability degree to overhauling buildings to reduce their carbon footprint, only to be met by a politician’s enmity.
Academic options and possibilities

So what can we do now?

One option is for those doing climate work to just keep on doing it, damning the torpedoes. After all, climate action has historically elicited blowback and hostility, so Trump 2.0 is nothing new. Perhaps it’s a difference in kind, not degree. Academics who see themselves having institutional or other backing (tenure, private funding, benefactors) may just continue. Some might relish the prospect of a public fight.

The public/private divide might be a powerful one. Being employed by, or taking classes at, a state university makes climate politics potentially powerful, even dispositive. Blue states might double down on climate action, which could take the form of new regulations forcing campuses to decarbonize more rapidly or to include global warming in general education. Red states, in contrast, can disincentivize faculty, staff, and students from the full range of climate action, making teaching, research, campus operational changes more difficult, even dangerous.

In contrast, academics affiliated with private colleges and universities might enjoy greater political latitude, at least in terms of direct governmental authority. Some might find themselves constrained by their non-governmental institutional affiliations – i.e., by their churches, if they’re a religious school. Economic and cultural pressures can also hit academics in private institutions. That said, we could see private campuses take a leading role compared with their public colleagues.

What new forms might academic climate action take?

We could well see new informal support networks appear, perhaps quietly, perhaps openly. This could take place via a variety of technological frameworks, from Discord to email. People involved will need others working on the same lines. There are already some formal networks, like AASHE and Second Nature. They might serve as bulwarks against hostility. We could also see new nonprofits form to support academic climate action.

Another tactic might be to establish a for-profit company to do climate work. This might sound strange, but businesses often appeal to the famously business-friendly GOP. An LLC or S-corp doing climate work in higher education could look less Green New Deal-y.

Will we see academics become more public in their climate research, perhaps participating in government lobbying, civic demonstrations, or more? After all, four more years of Trump means we will see increased American greenhouse gas emissions. The crisis is worsening, and that fact might engage more faculty, staff, and students to resist. Perhaps campuses will become centers or hubs of all kinds of climate action.

Furthermore, we might see more direct action. American colleges and universities have seen little of this so far, as opposed to European institutions. There have been some initial, tentative signs of this outside of the academy, like Just Stop Oil spray painting an American embassy in the United Kingdom.



Might we see American students, staff, faculty letting the air out of SUVs, damaging oil infrastructure, pie-ing fossil fuel company executives, or more?

A very different tactic for academics to consider is to be stealthy in order to avoid hostile attention. Not talking about one’s new climate class on social media, not sharing global warming research on TikTok, not doing a public talk in the community might be appealing tactics. Similarly, scholars might avoid publishing in open access journals in favor of those behind high paywalls. We could organize using private messaging apps, like Signal.

We could also stop. We might judge the moment too dangerous to proceed. Think about the largest population of faculty, adjuncts, who have so little workplace protections. They might deem it safer to go dark for a few years until things are less dangerous. Consider academics in various forms of marginalization – by race, religion, gender, professional position – as well as those with non-academic pressures (financial, familial). How many of us will pause this work for the time being?

Those academics who are committed to climate work are thinking about such choices now. And some may be participating in conversations about these options.

Let me close on a moment of self-reflection.

I’ve been doing climate research for years as part of my overall work on higher education’s future. This has taken many forms, including a scholarly book, blog writing, teaching, and a lot of presentations, both in-person and virtual. I have been participating in several networks of like-minded folks. I’ve hosted and interviewed climate experts in various venues. Overall, I work climate change into nearly everything I do professionally.

Yet I am an independent, as some of you know. I do not have a tenured or full time academic position. I don’t have independent wealth backing me up. Doing climate work is increasingly risky. To the extent that people know my commitment, I might quietly lose work, allies, colleagues, supporters. I have seen some signs of this already. Similarly, the public nature of what I do opens me up to the possibility of public attacks. I have not yet experienced this.

My philosophy of work – heck, of life – is that it’s better when shared with other people, hence my longtime preference for sharing so much of what I do online. This makes my work better, I think. Yet now, with a new and energetic conservative administration in the country where I live and do most of my work, perhaps this is too risky. I’ve already received advice to run dark, to do climate and other work underground.

Or maybe this is me overthinking things, starting at shadows. These are possibilities, each contingent on many factors and developments in a sprawling and complex academic ecosystem. We could see versions of all of the above playing out at the same time. Some presidents may boldly lead their institutions into accelerated climate action, while others forbid faculty and staff from any such activity. Some professors may launch new climate-focused classes while others delay teaching theirs for years. Staff members in a blue state might set up organic farms and push for fossil fuel vehicle parking fees, while others focus on other topics and keep their heads down. Some of us will make content for public view while others head underground.

Everything I know about climate change tells me this is a vast, civilization-wide crisis which humanity is struggling to apprehend, and that academia can play a significant role in addressing it if we choose to do so. Today I do not feel comfortable advising individuals on what each person should best do in this new political era. But I want to place the options before the public for discussion, to the extent people feel they should participate.

I hope I can keep doing this work. It needs to be done.

(thanks to the Hechinger Report and many friends including Karen Costa and Joe Murphy)

 

 

Bryan Alexander is an award–winning, internationally known futurist, researcher, writer, speaker, consultant, and teacher, working in the field of higher education’s future. He is currently a senior scholar at Georgetown University.  This article was originally published at BryanAlexander.org.

Share your stories about life and debt

Student loan debt in the United States has ballooned into a $1.7 trillion crisis, affecting over 43 million borrowers. Beyond the staggering figures, this debt exacts a profound human cost, influencing personal relationships, family dynamics, and long-term financial stability.

The Burden Beyond Graduation

For many, student loans are not just a financial obligation but a lifelong burden. A report by Demos indicates that an education debt of $53,000 can lead to a $208,000 lifetime loss of wealth. This financial strain often delays or derails significant life milestones. According to the Education Data Initiative, 51% of renting student borrowers have postponed homeownership due to their debt, while 22% have delayed starting a business.

Strained Relationships and Delayed Families

The weight of student debt extends into personal relationships. A study by TIAA and MIT AgeLab found that nearly one-quarter of borrowers reported that student loans have led to conflict within their families. Furthermore, the greater the student loan debt, the more likely borrowers are to delay key life events such as marriage and having children.

Multigenerational Impact

Student debt doesn't just affect individual borrowers; it reverberates across generations. Parents and grandparents often co-sign loans or take on debt themselves to support their children's education. The TIAA and MIT AgeLab study revealed that 43% of parents and grandparents who took out loans for their children or grandchildren plan to increase retirement savings once the student loan is paid off. This shift in financial priorities underscores the long-term impact of educational debt on family financial planning.

Mental Health and Emotional Well-being

Beyond financial implications, student debt significantly affects mental health. A study from Harvard Law School's Center on the Legal Profession found that 65% of borrowers reported that their total student loan debt or monthly loan obligation caused them to feel anxious or stressed. Over 70% of those with debts between $100,000 and $200,000 reported high or overwhelming stress levels.

Policy Shifts and Economic Consequences

Recent policy changes have further complicated the landscape for borrowers. The resumption of student loan collections, including wage garnishments and tax refund seizures, has placed millions at risk. As of early 2025, nearly one in four borrowers are behind on their payments, with over 90 days delinquent . This financial strain not only affects individual borrowers but also poses a threat to overall economic growth, as decreased consumer spending impacts broader economic stability.

Shredding the Fabric of Society 

The student loan crisis is more than a financial issue; it's a pervasive force affecting the fabric of American life. From delayed life milestones and strained family relationships to mental health challenges and economic repercussions, the impact is profound and far-reaching. Addressing this crisis requires comprehensive policy reforms that consider the human stories behind the debt figures. Only then can we hope to alleviate the burden and restore financial freedom to millions of Americans.

Share Your Story

The student loan crisis is more than a financial issue; it's a pervasive force affecting the fabric of American life. From delayed life milestones and strained family relationships to mental health challenges and economic repercussions, the impact is profound and far-reaching.

We want to hear from you. If you or someone you know is grappling with the weight of student debt, please consider sharing your story. Your experiences can shed light on the real-world implications of this crisis and help others understand they're not alone.

To share your story, please email us at gmcghee@aya.yale.edu with the subject line "Student Debt Story." Include your name, location, and a brief summary of your experience. We may feature your story in an upcoming article to highlight the human toll of student debt.

Together, we can bring attention to this pressing issue and advocate for meaningful change.

How College Destroyed the Labor Market (Damon Cassidy)

Underemployment, low wage jobs, and bullsh*t jobs are an important part of the US economy. And the higher education system does not appear to have done much to change this depressing reality. While this video may represent a distortion of US history and society, it should not be ignored. Skepticism about higher education is real, and for good reason, especially for the working class. There are also good points made in this video, including the federal and corporate de-funding of vocational education and crushing student loan debt. 

To understand what can be done, the US needs to look at what more progressive nations have done with education at all levels, and how education is tied to the larger economy and to Quality Of Life. Being able to reform the American system is a challenge, however, when vested interests (corporations and their government surrogates) work to keep the existing system of inequality and injustice in place.

Related links: 

The College Dream is Over (Gary Roth) 

A People's History of Higher Education in the US 

Student Loan Debt

Wealth and Want

Robocolleges 2025

Overall, enrollment numbers for online robocolleges have increased as full-time faculty numbers have declined. Four schools now have enrollment numbers exceeding 100,000 students.  

Here's a breakdown of the key characteristics of robocolleges:

• Technology-Driven: Robocolleges heavily utilize online platforms, pre-recorded lectures, automated grading systems, and limited human interaction.
• Focus on Profit: These institutions often prioritize generating revenue over providing a high-quality educational experience.
• Aggressive Marketing: Robocolleges frequently employ aggressive marketing tactics to attract students, sometimes with misleading information.
• High Tuition Costs: They often charge high tuition fees, leading to significant student debt.
• Limited Faculty Interaction: Students may have limited access to faculty members for guidance and support.
• Questionable Job Placement Rates: Graduates of robocolleges may struggle to find employment in their chosen fields.

Concerns:

• Student Debt Crisis: The high tuition costs and potential for low job placement rates contribute to the student debt crisis.
• Quality of Education: The emphasis on technology and limited human interaction can raise concerns about the quality of education students receive.
• Ethical Considerations: The aggressive marketing tactics and potential for misleading students raise ethical concerns.

Here are Fall 2023 numbers (the most recent numbers) from the US Department of Education College Navigator:

Southern New Hampshire University: 129 Full-Time (F/T) instructors for 188,049 students.*
Grand Canyon University 582 F/T instructors for 107,563 students.*
Liberty University: 812 F/T for 103,068 students.*
University of Phoenix: 86 F/T instructors for 101,150 students.*
University of Maryland Global: 168 F/T instructors for 60,084 students.
American Public University System: 341 F/T instructors for 50,187 students.
Purdue University Global: 298 F/T instructors for 44,421 students.
Walden University: 242 F/T for 44,223 students.
Capella University: 168 F/T for 43,915 students.
University of Arizona Global Campus: 97 F/T instructors for 32,604 students.
Devry University online: 66 F/T instructors for 29,346 students.
Colorado Technical University: 100 F/T instructors for 28,852 students.
American Intercontinental University: 82 full-time instructors for 10,997 students.
Colorado State University Global: 26 F/T instructors for 9,507 students.
South University: 37 F/T instructors for 8,816 students.
Aspen University 10 F/T instructors for 5,195 students.
National American University 0 F/T instructors for 1,026 students

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

Related links:

Wealth and Want Part 4: Robocolleges and Roboworkers (2024) 

Southern New Hampshire University: America's Largest Robocollege Facing Resistance From Human Workers and Student Complaints About Curriculum (2024)

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

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

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

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

The Higher Education Assembly Line (2019)

The Worst Bill in History: Trump’s giant budget-busting, Medicaid-shattering, shafting-the-poor-and-working-class, making-the-rich-even richer bill is a travesty. (Robert Reich)

Friends,

One of my objectives in this daily letter is to equip you with the facts you need. As the Senate approaches a vote on Trump’s giant “big beautiful” tax and budget bill, I want to be as clear as possible about it.

First, it will cost a budget-busting $3.3 trillion. According to new estimates by the nonpartisan Congressional Budget Office, the Senate bill would add at least $3.3 trillion to the already out-of-control national debt over a decade. That’s nearly $1 trillion more than the House-passed version.

Second, it will cause 11.8 million Americans to lose their health coverage. The Senate version would result in even deeper cuts in federal support for health insurance, and more Americans losing coverage, than the House version. Federal spending on Medicaid, Medicare, and Obamacare would be reduced by more than $1.1 trillion over that period — with more than $1 trillion of those cuts coming from Medicaid alone.

All told, this will leave 11.8 million more Americans uninsured by 2034.

Third, it will cut food stamps and other nutrition assistance for lower-income Americans. According to the CBO, the legislation will not only cut Medicaid by about 18 percent, it will cut Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program (food stamps) by roughly 20 percent. These cuts will constitute the most dramatic reductions in safety net spending in modern U.S. history.

Fourth, it will overwhelmingly benefit the rich and big corporations. The CBO projects that those in the bottom tenth of the income distribution will end up poorer, while the top tenth will be substantially richer.

The bill also makes permanent the business tax cuts from the 2017 legislation, further benefiting the largest corporations.

Finally, it will not help the economy. Trickle-down economics has proven to be a cruel hoax. Over the last 50 years, Congress has passed four major bills that cut taxes: the 1981 Reagan tax cuts; the 2001 and 2003 George W. Bush tax cuts; and the 2017 Trump tax cuts. Each time, the same three arguments were made in favor of the tax cuts: (1) They’d pay for themselves. (2) They’d supercharge economic growth. (3) They’d benefit everyone.

All have been proven wrong. Here’s what in fact happened:

(1) Did the tax cuts pay for themselves?

No. Rather than paying for themselves, the Reagan, Bush, and Trump tax cuts each significantly increased the federal deficit. In total, those tax cuts have added over $10.4 trillion to the federal deficit since 1981 compared to the Congressional Budget Office’s baseline projections.

(2) Did the tax cuts supercharge economic growth, create millions of jobs, and raise wages?

Absolutely not. Rather than growing, the economy shrank after passage of the Reagan tax cuts. And unemployment surged to over 10 percent. Following the enactment of the Bush and Trump tax cuts, the economy did grow a bit, but at rates much lower than their supporters predicted.

(3) Did the tax cuts benefit everyone?

Heavens, no. Rather than benefiting everyone, the savings from the Reagan, Bush, and Trump tax cuts flowed mainly to the richest Americans. The average tax cut for households in the top 1 percent under the Reagan tax cut ($47,147) was 68 times larger than the average tax cut for middle-class households ($695). The Bush tax cut for households in the top 1 percent was 16 times larger than the average tax cut for the middle class. The 2017 Trump tax cut for households in the top 1 percent was 36 times larger than for middle-class households.

Summary: If the bill now being considered by the Senate is enacted, 11.8 million Americans will lose their health insurance, millions will fall into poverty, and the national debt will increase by $3.3 trillion, all to provide a major tax cut mainly to the rich and big corporations. There is no justification for this.

Never before in the history of this nation has such a large redistribution of income been directed upward, for no reason at all. It comes at a time of near-record inequalities of income and wealth.

What you can do: Call your senators and tell them to vote “no” on this calamitous tax and budget bill. Congressional switchboard: (202) 224-3121.

Beyond this, help ensure that senators who vote in favor of this monstrosity are booted out of the Senate as soon as they’re up for reelection.

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