Flirtin' with Disaster: American Higher Education and the Debt Trap

They call it a “path to opportunity,” but for millions of students and their families, American higher education is just Flirtin' with Disaster—a gamble with long odds and staggering costs. Borrowers bet their future on a credential, universities gamble with public trust and private equity, and the system as a whole plays chicken with economic and social collapse. Cue the screeching guitar of Molly Hatchet’s 1979 Southern rock anthem, and you’ve got a fitting soundtrack to the dangerous dance between institutions of higher ed and the consumers they so aggressively court.

The Student as Collateral

For the last three decades, higher education in the United States has increasingly behaved like a high-stakes poker table, only it’s the students who are holding a weak hand. Underfunded public colleges, predatory for-profits, and tuition-hiking private universities all promise upward mobility but deliver it only selectively. The rest? They leave the table with debt, no degree, or both.

Colleges market dreams, but they sell debt. Americans now owe more than $1.7 trillion in student loans. And while some elite schools can claim robust return-on-investment, most institutions below the top tiers produce increasingly shaky value propositions—especially for working-class, first-gen, and BIPOC students. For them, education is often less an elevator to the middle class than a trapdoor into a lifetime of wage garnishment and diminished credit.

Institutional Recklessness

Universities themselves are no saints in this drama. Fueled by financial aid dollars, college leaders have expanded campuses like land barons—building luxury dorms, bloated athletic programs, and administrative empires. Meanwhile, instruction is increasingly outsourced to underpaid adjuncts, and actual student support systems are skeletal at best.

The recklessness isn’t limited to for-profits like Corinthian Colleges, ITT Tech, and the Art Institutes, all of which collapsed under federal scrutiny. Even brand-name nonprofits—think USC, NYU, Columbia—have been exposed for enrolling students into costly, often ineffective online master’s programs in partnership with edtech firms. The real product wasn’t the degree—it was the debt.

A Nation at the Brink

From community colleges to research universities, institutions are now being pushed to their financial and ethical limits. The number of colleges closing or merging has skyrocketed, especially among small private colleges and rural campuses. Layoffs, like those at Southern New Hampshire University and across public systems in Pennsylvania, Oregon, and West Virginia, show that austerity is the new norm.

But the real disaster is systemic. The American college promise—that hard work and higher ed will lead to security—is unraveling in real time. With declining enrollments, aging infrastructure, and increasing political pressure to defund or control curriculum, many schools are shifting from public goods to privatized risk centers. Even state flagship universities now behave more like hedge funds than educational institutions.

Consumers or Victims?

One of the cruelest ironies is that students are still told they are "consumers" who should “shop wisely.” But education is not like buying a toaster. There’s no refund if your college closes. There’s no protection if your degree is devalued. And there's no bankruptcy for most student loan debt. Even federal forgiveness efforts—like Borrower Defense or Public Service Loan Forgiveness—are riddled with bureaucratic landmines and political sabotage.

In this asymmetric market, the house almost always wins. Institutions keep the revenue. Third-party contractors keep their profits. Politicians collect campaign checks. And the borrowers? They’re left flirtin’ with disaster, hoping the system doesn’t collapse before they’ve paid off the last dime.

No Exit Without Accountability

There’s still time to change course—but it will require radical rethinking. That means:

• Holding institutions and executives accountable for false advertising and financial harm.

• Reining in tuition hikes and decoupling higher ed from Wall Street’s expectations.

• Fully funding community colleges and public universities to serve as real social infrastructure.

• Expanding debt cancellation—not just piecemeal forgiveness—for those most harmed by a failed system.

• Ending the exploitation of adjunct labor and restoring the academic mission.

Otherwise, higher education in the U.S. will continue on its reckless path, a broken-down system blasting its anthem of denial as it speeds toward the edge.

As the song goes:
"I'm travelin' down the road and I'm flirtin' with disaster... I got the pedal to the floor, my life is runnin' faster."
So is the American student debt machine—and we’re all strapped in for the ride.

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Sources:

• U.S. Department of Education, Federal Student Aid Portfolio

• “The Trillion Dollar Lie,” Student Borrower Protection Center

• The Century Foundation, “The High Cost of For-Profit Colleges”

• Inside Higher Ed, Chronicle of Higher Education, Higher Ed Dive

• National Center for Education Statistics

• Molly Hatchet, Flirtin’ with Disaster, Epic Records, 1979

The Accreditation Curtain: A 20-Year Reflection on Transparency and the Illusion of Access (Glen McGhee)

The cancellation of the latest NACIQI (National Advisory Committee on Institutional Quality and Integrity) meeting brought back bitter memories that refuse to fade. 

It’s been twenty years since I traveled to Washington, DC—dressed in my best lobbying attire and carrying a meticulous roster of Department of Education staff—to visit the Office of Postsecondary Education (OPE) on K Street. My goal was simple, even noble: to seek answers about the opaque workings of accreditation in American higher education. What I encountered instead was a wall of silence, surveillance, and authoritarianism.

I stepped off the elevator on the seventh floor of the Department building and signed in. Under "Purpose of Visit," I wrote: Reform. I was calm, professional, and respectful. I asked to see the NACIQI Chair, Bonnie, hoping that she would be willing to speak with me about a system that, even then, was falling into disrepair. But what happened next still infuriates me.

Within seconds, two armed, uniformed guards approached me. They didn’t ask questions. They gave an ultimatum: leave or be arrested.

I eventually complied, descending into the lobby, still stunned. From there I began dialing—one by one—through the directory of names I had so carefully assembled. I called staffers, analysts, assistants, anyone who might answer. Not a single person picked up. I could feel the eyes of the guards watching me, one of them posted on the mezzanine like a sniper keeping watch over a public enemy. I was not dangerous. I was not disruptive. I was, however, unwanted.

The next day, I turned to my Congressman, Allen Boyd, whose LA generously tried to intervene. His office contacted OPE, attempting to broker a meeting on my behalf. The Department didn’t even return his call. Apparently, a sitting member of Congress—who didn’t sit on a high-ranking committee—carried no weight at the fortress of federal education oversight.

This most recent overstepping by US ED—unilaterally postponing NACIQI’s Summer 2025 meeting—reminds observers of how limited the oversight provided by NACIQI really is. It is, apparently, nothing more than a performative shell that fulfills ceremonial functions, and not much more.

I would argue that this latest episode reveals that NACIQI is less an independent watchdog and more a ceremonial body with limited real power, and so my view differs somewhat from David Halperin, because he sees more substantive activity than I do.

The history of ACICS (Accrediting Council for Independent Colleges and Schools) and SACS (Southern Association of Colleges) appearing before NACIQI illustrates how regulatory capture can manifest not only through industry influence, but also through bureaucratic design and process control. The OPE’s central role, combined with NACIQI’s limited enforcement power, has allowed failing accreditors to retain recognition for years, even in the face of overwhelming evidence of noncompliance and harm to students.

The illusion of accountability has long been a feature of the accreditation system, not a flaw. NACIQI meetings, when they occur, are tightly scripted, with carefully managed testimony and limited public engagement. The real decisions are made elsewhere, behind closed doors, often under the influence of powerful lobbying groups and entrenched bureaucracies that resist transparency and reform at every turn.

Despite the increasing scrutiny on higher education and growing public awareness of student debt, poor educational outcomes, and sham institutions, the federal recognition of accreditors remains an elite-controlled process. It is a closed loop. Institutions, accreditors, and government officials all play their roles in a carefully choreographed performance that rarely leads to systemic change. The result is a system that protects institutions at the expense of students, particularly the most vulnerable—low-income, first-generation, and minority students who are often targeted by predatory schools hiding behind federal accreditation.

This is the reality of the U.S. Department of Education’s accreditation apparatus: inaccessible, unaccountable, and increasingly symbolic. NACIQI, far from being an independent advisory body, has always functioned as a ceremonial front for political appointees and entrenched interests. It is, as I see it, just another arm of Vishnu—multiplicitous, all-seeing, but ultimately indifferent to critique or reform. Whether it’s chaired by a bureaucrat or a former wrestling executive like Linda McMahon, the outcome is the same: the process is rigged to exclude dissent and suppress scrutiny.

And yet, pundits today still fail to grasp the implications. They speak of accreditation as if it were a technocratic process guided by evidence and integrity. They act as if NACIQI were a neutral arbiter. But I know otherwise, because I was there—thrown out, silenced, and treated like a trespasser in the very institution that claims to protect educational quality and student interest.

This is more than personal bitterness. It’s about structural rot. When critics are expelled, when staff are muzzled, and when public servants ignore elected representatives, we are not dealing with oversight—we are witnessing capture. Accreditation in this country serves the accreditors and the institutions, not students, not taxpayers, and certainly not reformers.

Two decades later, the anger remains. So does the silence.

---

Sources:
Department of Education building directory and procedures (2005)
Congressional Office of Rep. Allen Boyd (archival record, 2005)
Public notices regarding NACIQI meeting cancellations (2024–2025)
David Halperin, Republic Report

From Promise to Predicament: The Fed’s View of Higher Education Fifteen years of data, warnings, and contradictions about America’s student debt crisis.

Over the past fifteen years, the Federal Reserve System has quietly amassed one of the most extensive and consistent bodies of research on student loan debt in the United States. Across its twelve regional banks and the Board of Governors in Washington, the Fed has produced a series of studies that track not just the growth of borrowing, but its unequal burden across race, class, institution type, and geography. The findings confirm what many borrowers already know: the promise of higher education increasingly comes with financial risk, social inequality, and personal hardship.

The Fed's research consistently shows that student loan debt limits economic mobility. It lowers homeownership rates, delays marriage and family formation, and contributes to intergenerational poverty—especially among first-generation college students, borrowers of color, and those who attended for-profit or low-value institutions. While college graduates generally earn more over a lifetime than non-graduates, the costs of attendance—and the debt needed to finance it—often erode that advantage.

The New York Fed was among the first to quantify the scale of the crisis. A 2014 staff report revealed the steep growth in borrowing and the rising rates of delinquency. Follow-up research found that students who failed to complete degrees were the most likely to default. Even among those who did graduate, the risks varied widely depending on the school attended. For-profit college students, in particular, had disproportionately poor outcomes—higher debt levels, higher unemployment, and lower earnings.

In New England, the Boston Fed found that despite the region’s high tuition costs, default rates were relatively low. Researchers attributed this to a strong labor market and high levels of family support. But the same studies also showed that borrowers from disadvantaged backgrounds were still more likely to struggle with repayment, even in affluent states.

More recent work from the Federal Reserve Board's Survey of Household Economics and Decisionmaking (SHED) adds further evidence that the student loan crisis is uneven. Black and Latino borrowers were more likely to attend institutions with poor outcomes and were more likely to fall behind on payments after the federal pause ended in 2023. Older Americans, including many Parent PLUS borrowers and returning students, also experienced sharp declines in credit scores when payments resumed.

Other Fed branches have asked deeper structural questions. The Richmond Fed in 2022 examined whether increases in federal loan limits contributed to tuition inflation. Their findings were nuanced: while tuition sometimes rose in tandem with expanded loan access, the relationship was inconsistent and depended heavily on institutional behavior. Meanwhile, the Chicago Fed found that families who lost wealth during the Great Recession relied more heavily on student loans, underscoring that borrowing is often a symptom of broader economic vulnerability, not just tuition hikes.

There are tensions among these findings. Some studies emphasize the long-term value of a college degree, arguing that despite the debt, graduates still fare better than non-graduates. Others focus on the risks—especially for those who never finish or who attend predatory institutions. Some research supports targeted loan forgiveness for the most vulnerable; others point to the need for broader systemic reforms to financing, accountability, and access.

What is clear across all these studies is that the federal student loan system, once designed to expand opportunity, now plays a major role in reproducing inequality. Without deeper changes to how higher education is funded and delivered, student loan debt will continue to act as a drag on economic growth and a burden on the middle and working classes.

---

Chart: Median Student Loan Balances by Degree Status and Institution Type
(Based on data from the Federal Reserve Board’s SHED, 2024)

Degree Completed     | Institution Type     | Median Balance
---------------------|----------------------|-----------------
No Degree            | For-Profit College   | $15,700
Associate’s Degree   | Community College    | $12,400
Bachelor’s Degree    | Public University    | $20,200
Bachelor’s Degree    | Private Nonprofit    | $26,000
Graduate Degree      | Public University    | $35,000
Graduate Degree      | Private Nonprofit    | $49,000

This chart highlights how both degree completion and institution type shape borrowing outcomes. Borrowers with no degree, particularly those who attended for-profit colleges, face high risk with lower earning potential. In contrast, graduate students from private institutions carry the highest debt loads, but typically with greater long-term income.

---

Sources:

• Federal Reserve Board, Survey of Household Economics and Decisionmaking (2014–2024)

• New York Federal Reserve, Student Loan Borrowing and Repayment Behavior (2014, 2019)

• Boston Federal Reserve, Student Loan Debt and Economic Outcomes in New England (2014, 2016)

• Richmond Federal Reserve, Do Federal Student Loans Drive Tuition? (2022)

• Chicago Federal Reserve, The Shadow of the Great Recession and Student Loan Burden (2024)

• St. Louis Federal Reserve, Students Are Borrowing Too Much—or Too Little (2019)

Indeed and the Illusion of Opportunity: The Platform Monopoly on Jobs and Careers

In the platform-dominated economy, Indeed.com has established itself as the central marketplace for jobseekers and employers alike, boasting tens of millions of listings across industries and geographies. But behind its user-friendly design lies a powerful, opaque system that reinforces labor precarity, exploits the desperation of the underemployed, and facilitates fraud and exploitation—including through job scams designed to funnel people into for-profit colleges and dubious training schemes.

Indeed’s rise is emblematic of a larger pattern in the U.S. political economy, where platforms extract profit from human need—especially from the millions of Americans struggling to find secure employment in a shrinking labor market. While claiming to connect jobseekers with opportunity, Indeed increasingly operates as a gatekeeper and a filter, favoring employers with the ability to pay for prominence, and quietly profiting from a user base navigating worsening inequality.

From Opportunity to Exploitation: The Platform Economy

Indeed’s near-monopoly over online job listings positions it as the Amazon of employment—a central aggregator of job ads, resume submissions, employer reviews, and workforce data. Its business model is rooted in ad-based revenue: companies pay to boost job visibility, while jobseekers receive a flood of suggested listings—many of which are irrelevant, low-quality, or outright deceptive.

One particularly disturbing trend: a growing number of "job postings" on Indeed are not job offers at all, but veiled advertisements for for-profit colleges and unaccredited training programs. These listings typically appear legitimate, bearing the titles of medical assistant, phlebotomist, cybersecurity technician, or paralegal. But once an applicant shows interest, they are quickly routed to admissions representatives, not employers. In short, they’ve fallen for a bait-and-switch scheme.

Indeed does little to prevent these tactics. Despite flagging mechanisms and user complaints, scammers and aggressive recruiters return repeatedly under new listings or shell company names. And because these advertisers pay to promote their listings, there is a built-in conflict of interest: Indeed profits from ads designed to exploit vulnerable jobseekers, many of whom are already burdened by unemployment, underemployment, or student debt.

The Job Training Charade: A National Problem

As labor economist Gordon Lafer argues in The Job Training Charade, job training programs have long functioned as a public relations tool for elected officials, who promise “skills-based solutions” rather than structural labor reform. Publicly funded retraining programs and for-profit career schools capitalize on this narrative, convincing jobseekers that their struggles stem from a personal “skills gap” rather than systemic inequality.

Indeed’s platform reinforces this logic by flooding users with listings that promote training and certification programs as prerequisites for jobs that often don’t exist or pay poorly. Even in legitimate industries—like healthcare and IT—the overabundance of credential inflation and unnecessary gatekeeping leads to further debt accumulation without guaranteeing meaningful work.

As Lafer writes, “Training has become a substitute for economic policy—a way of appearing to do something without actually improving people’s lives.” And Indeed is a willing partner in this substitution, profiting from a constant churn of dislocated workers trying to retool their résumés and lives to meet an ever-shifting set of employer demands.

The Educated Underclass and Platform Paternalism

Gary Roth, in The Educated Underclass, identifies another critical aspect of this ecosystem: the overproduction of college graduates relative to the needs of the labor market. As more people earn degrees, the wage premium diminishes, and once-secure professions become crowded with overqualified applicants chasing scarce opportunities.

Indeed’s platform becomes the proving ground for this underclass: college-educated workers competing for service jobs, temp contracts, or entry-level roles barely above minimum wage. Meanwhile, the site’s tools—resume scores, AI-based job match algorithms, and automated rejection letters—reinforce the idea that unemployment is a personal failure rather than a structural outcome.

This is platform paternalism at its worst. Jobseekers are “nudged” into applying for low-quality work, “encouraged” to pursue unnecessary training, and surveilled through behavioral data that is packaged and sold to employers and third-party marketers. Career development becomes not a public good but a private product—sold back to workers in pieces, with no guarantee of outcome.

Job Scams and Regulatory Blind Spots

The Federal Trade Commission (FTC) and state attorneys general have received thousands of complaints about online job scams—including fake recruiters, phony employers, and misleading school advertisements. Yet enforcement remains weak, and platforms like Indeed enjoy limited legal liability, protected by Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act, which shields them from responsibility for user-generated content.

Even when caught, fraudulent advertisers often reappear. As one whistleblower told The Higher Education Inquirer, “We’d flag scam listings, and two days later they’d pop back up under a new name. It was like a game of whack-a-mole—and no one at the top cared.”

Indeed's user agreement explicitly disclaims responsibility for the authenticity of job listings. And although the company has instituted basic verification and reporting tools, they are inadequate to stem the tide of predatory postings, especially those tied to the multibillion-dollar for-profit education industry.

A Broken System Masquerading as Innovation

The consolidation of online job markets under platforms like Indeed represents a profound shift in the political economy of labor. No longer mediated by public institutions or strong unions, the search for work is now a privatized experience, managed by algorithms, monetized through ads, and vulnerable to deception.

To be clear: Indeed does not create jobs. It creates the illusion of access. It obscures labor precarity behind UX design and paid listings. It enables fraudulent training pipelines while pushing the burden of risk and cost onto workers. And it profits from the widening chasm between what higher education promises and what the economy delivers.

At The Higher Education Inquirer, we demand accountability—not just from institutions of higher learning but from the platforms that now mediate our futures. The illusion must be pierced, and jobseeking must be reclaimed as a public function, free from predation, profiteering, and platform capture.

---

Sources:

• Lafer, Gordon. The Job Training Charade. Cornell University Press, 2002.

• Roth, Gary. The Educated Underclass: Students and the Promise of Social Mobility. Pluto Press, 2019.

• U.S. Federal Trade Commission (FTC). “Job Scams: What You Need to Know.” 2024.

• Recruit Holdings. Annual Reports and Investor Presentations, 2020–2024.

• U.S. Department of Labor. “Contingent and Alternative Employment Arrangements.” 2023.

• Brody, Leslie. “Students Lured Into For-Profit Colleges Through Fake Job Ads.” Wall Street Journal, 2022.

• Zuboff, Shoshana. The Age of Surveillance Capitalism. PublicAffairs, 2019.

• Glassdoor, Indeed, and CareerBuilder community complaint forums (2021–2025).

Heroic Telephone Operator saved the lives of others in the Folsom, New Mexico Flood of 1908 (Friday's Labor Folklore)

View and share as a webpage. Friday's Labor Folklore

Sally Rooke Heroic Telephone Operator   saved the lives of others in the   Folsom, New Mexico Flood of 1908

Some may call Folsom, New Mexico a ghost town. Located at the headwaters of the Cimarron River - known locally as the Dry Cimarron - it has hardly any active businesses.  Most community life centers around the Folsom Museum, established in 1966. According to the 2020 census, its population was 51.

According to Tom Drake of the New Mexico Historic Preservation Division, "the town never recovered from the disastrous flood of 1908."   On that day - August 27, 1908 - a freak storm struck the town with only a few hours warning, leading to tragic results. Earlier that summer hay was cut and the leftover stalks littered the fields around the river's headwaters. "When the rains came the water collected the hay stalks and other debris and carried them along until they began to block the small railroad bridges. When these impromptu dams gave way, the resulting surge added to the already swelling river." (Mike Schoonover, Folsom Area History, 2010) People living upriver sounded the alarm by calling Folsom's switchboard operator, Sally Rooke. Sally began ringing townspeople who had a telephone, warning them to escape the impending flood. She stayed at her station, contacting over 40 people who were saved from the flood. Then the rushing waters washed away her building.  "Residents of the town who lived on high ground and beyond the reach of the torrent, saw houses containing families crying for aid swept away before their eyes, powerless to render them any assistance." Along with drowned cattle and horses, Sally's body was found 12 miles downstream still wearing the headpiece worn by telephone operators. She died along with 17 other people that day. Eighteen years later the town honored her with a small memorial, donated by the contributions of telephone operators around the country. In 2007 the New Mexico Dept. of Cultural Affairs erected a historic marker in her name. Sally Rooke joins other notable women of New Mexico as part of that state's Historic Women Marker Initiative.

Sarah "Sally" J. Rooke  Heroine of the Dry Cimarron Flood  (1843-1908)   On the night of August 27, 1908, while working as a telephone operator, Sally received a call that a wall of water was rushing down the Dry Cimarron River towards Folsom. She perished that stormy night at her switchboard warning others of the danger, saving countless lives. Telephone operators across the country contributed 4,334 dimes to honor their colleague with a memorial.                 -- Text of New Mexico Historic Marker

Louisiana 1927 by Aaron Neville (Randy Newman wrote this lament for the victims of the Great Mississippi Flood of 1927.)

Heroes by Jon Fromer (Emergency responders and the Central Texas Flood volunteers are working-class heroes.)

Fridays Labor Folklore Saul Schniderman, Editor

Documents from US Department of Education (Federal Register)

Documents from Education Department Matching Documents Education Department Notices Agency Information Collection Activities; Proposals, Submissions, and Approvals: Streamlined Clearance Process for Discretionary Grants FR Document: 2025-13011 Citation: 90 FR 30895 PDF Pages 30895-30896 (2 pages) Permalink Abstract: In accordance with the Paperwork Reduction Act (PRA) of 1995, the Department is proposing an extension without change of a currently approved information collection request (ICR). Clarification of Federal Public Benefits under the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act FR Document: 2025-12925 Citation: 90 FR 30896 PDF Pages 30896-30901 (6 pages) Permalink Abstract: The U.S. Department of Education (Department) issues this interpretation to revise and clarify its position on the classification of certain Department programs providing "Federal public benefits," as defined in Title IV of the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act of 1996 (PRWORA), Public Law 104-193. The Department concludes that the postsecondary education programs and "other similar benefit" programs described within this interpretive rule, including adult... National Assessment Governing Board Notices Hearings, Meetings, Proceedings, etc.: Committee and Quarterly Board FR Document: 2025-13008 Citation: 90 FR 30893 PDF Pages 30893-30895 (3 pages) Permalink Abstract: This notice sets forth the agenda, time, and instructions to access the National Assessment Governing Board's (hereafter referred to as the Board or Governing Board) standing committee meetings and quarterly Governing Board meeting. This notice provides information to members of the public who may be interested in attending the meetings and/or providing written comments related to the work of the Governing Board. The meetings will be held either in person and/or virtually, as noted below.... Matching Documents Subscribe to Any Search Result Did you know that you can subscribe to any search result? After performing any search on FederalRegister.gov you can choose to receive any future documents that match your search via email. Just click the subscribe button on the right side of the search box. Subscribe to an Agency's Documents From any agency page on FederalRegister.gov you can choose to receive email updates of new documents from that agency. Choices of subscriptions include Documents on Public Inspection, Newly Published Documents, and Documents Deemed Significant.

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Fahmi Quadir, Adtalem, and the High-Stakes Ethics of Short-Selling

In the realm of Wall Street, few figures challenge the system from within quite like Fahmi Quadir. Known in financial circles as “The Assassin,” Quadir has made a name—and a mission—for herself by exposing fraud and predatory behavior in publicly traded companies. But unlike most short-sellers chasing profits on volatility, Quadir brings a moral clarity to her work, emphasizing that short-selling can be an instrument of justice when practiced with rigor, purpose, and transparency. Her recent campaign against Adtalem Global Education, a for-profit college conglomerate, underscores the power—and danger—of this approach.

Fahmi Quadir is the founder and Chief Investment Officer of Safkhet Capital, a short-only hedge fund she launched in 2017 at the age of 26. Safkhet is not your typical Wall Street operation. Built on deep forensic research and a mission to hold corporations accountable, the firm takes bold, high-conviction positions against companies it believes are engaged in deception, exploitation, or fraud.

Quadir's career trajectory is as unlikely as it is impressive. She originally planned to pursue a PhD in mathematics, but a series of encounters at New York’s National Museum of Mathematics—funded by quantitative finance giants like Renaissance Technologies—introduced her to a world where market dynamics and moral imperatives could collide. She quickly realized that capital markets held not just monetary power, but the potential to drive social change. With no formal finance background, she was identified by hedge fund insiders as a natural fit for short-selling. She dove in, eventually appearing in the 2018 Netflix documentary Dirty Money, which chronicled her pivotal role in the takedown of Valeant Pharmaceuticals.

In February 2024, Quadir spoke at Stanford’s Graduate School of Business during an event hosted by the Corporations and Society Initiative (CASI). In a conversation moderated by JD/MBA student Thomas Newcomb, she unpacked her approach to short-selling—one defined by intellectual rigor, emotional resilience, and moral conviction.

"Short selling means you borrow shares from your bank, sell them, and hope the price drops so you can buy them back at a lower price and pocket the difference," Quadir explained. “But prices can go up infinitely. The potential losses on a short are also infinite.”

That risk, she emphasized, is not theoretical—it’s lived. “You need to withstand a lot of pain,” she said. “Short-selling isn't for everyone. It’s about doing uncomfortable work, challenging popular narratives, and being willing to look like a fool—until you're proven right.”

And yet, in Quadir’s view, this discomfort is necessary. “Shorting is important for the functioning of our markets. It provides liquidity and price discovery. But in a tiny corner of the market, there are those of us who are using short selling as a way to expose injustice and correct bad capital market behavior.”

Quadir focuses on companies she believes are harming customers or committing fraud, rather than chasing momentum or hype. “We avoid situations of mass delusion,” she noted, “because mass delusion can stay delusional forever.”

Her most famous case remains the takedown of Wirecard AG, a German electronic payments firm that collapsed in 2020 amid massive accounting fraud. Safkhet's 25% short position on Wirecard was the culmination of years of research and collaboration with whistleblowers and law enforcement. It was a textbook example of what Quadir calls "story-driven" short-selling—piecing together a company's past to uncover the rot at its core.

She recounted a chilling origin story involving Wirecard’s founders, Markus Braun and Jan Marsalek—who is now a confirmed Russian agent—and an Austrian billionaire with ties to adult entertainment who allegedly used intimidation tactics to force a takeover. “When that’s part of your origin story,” she said, “whatever comes after is going to be epic.”

But Quadir’s sights have recently turned toward a different kind of fraud—one operating under the guise of education. In January 2024, Safkhet Capital released a detailed short report on Adtalem Global Education, labeling it a “toxic byproduct of an imperfect higher education system.” The report highlighted Adtalem’s dependence on federal student aid—more than 70% of its revenue—and exposed dismal outcomes at its institutions, including Walden and Chamberlain universities, both of which serve a disproportionately high number of Black and working-class women.

The report also noted a financial responsibility score of 0.2 out of 3.0—far below the threshold used by the U.S. Department of Education to flag institutions at risk of mismanaging federal funds. In Quadir’s view, Adtalem wasn’t just financially shaky—it was “completely uninvestable.”

The market agreed. Following Safkhet’s report, Adtalem’s stock dropped 19% in a single day, with further losses in the days that followed. The company attempted to halt trading and accused Quadir of “short and distort” tactics—a claim that fell flat. “It was very satisfying after that hold was released to see the market validate our thesis,” she said. “Their strategy backfired.”

At Stanford, Quadir reflected on why she made the Adtalem report public: “There was an informational vacuum around this company. The shareholder base was largely passive. No one was doing the kind of research or analysis we were doing.”

But Quadir is quick to point out that short-sellers alone cannot fix a broken system. “Nothing is going to change if there isn’t enforcement,” she said. “We need to have some high-profile cases where people go to jail. These characters continue to get away with it or settle, and what happens? Their stocks go up.”

She remains hopeful, however, that markets—if given the right incentives—can self-correct. “I think the greatest believers in market efficiency have to be short sellers. I believe capital markets can correct bad behavior, and that benefits all of us.”

Short-selling, when practiced ethically, is not about sabotage. It is about storytelling, investigation, and risk—a lot of risk. Quadir’s approach requires patience, emotional stamina, and intellectual courage. It is not for the faint of heart. But in a world where regulators are often captured and media attention can be fleeting, short-sellers like Quadir play an essential, if controversial, role.

Her work against Adtalem is not just a case study in financial activism. It is a call to reexamine how markets reward failure, how federal funds prop up predatory institutions, and how silence—especially in higher education—can be bought. As Quadir puts it, “We have the power to affect change. We just have to be willing to take the hits.”

Sources

This article draws significantly from the February 2024 Stanford Graduate School of Business event, A Conversation with Fahmi Quadir, Wall Street’s Fearless Short Seller, hosted by the Corporations and Society Initiative (CASI). The event transcript and summary are available at https://casi.stanford.edu/news/conversation-fahmi-quadir-wall-streets-fearless-short-seller.

Additional information was compiled from the Safkhet Capital short report on Adtalem Global Education (January 2024), publicly available statements by Adtalem Global Education, coverage of Adtalem’s stock movement by MarketWatch and Bloomberg, investigations into Wirecard by the Financial Times, and Quadir’s portrayal in the 2018 Netflix documentary Dirty Money.

Legal responses to Safkhet’s report were also noted from Pomerantz LLP and Block & Leviton, which opened shareholder investigations into Adtalem in January 2024. Data from the U.S. Department of Education regarding Title IV funding and financial responsibility scores was used to contextualize Adtalem’s regulatory risk.

For further background on short-selling’s role in price discovery and enforcement gaps in higher education, see related coverage in The Wall Street Journal, The Chronicle of Higher Education, and Inside Higher Ed.

“You Don’t Need a Tariff. You Need a Revolution”: A Viral Wake-Up Call—Or CCP Propaganda?

In a clip that’s rapidly gone viral among both left-leaning critics of neoliberalism and right-wing populists, a young Chinese TikTok influencer delivers a searing indictment of American economic decline. Fluent in English and confident in tone, the speaker lays bare what many struggling Americans already feel: that they’ve been conned by their own elites.

“They robbed you blind and you thank them for it. That’s a tragedy. That’s a scam,” the young man declares, addressing the American people directly.

The video, played and discussed on Judging Freedom with Judge Andrew Napolitano and Professor John Mearsheimer, has sparked praise—and suspicion. While the message resonates with a growing number of Americans disillusioned by the bipartisan political establishment, some are asking: Who is behind this message?

 
A Sharp Critique of American Oligarchy

In his 90-second monologue, the influencer claims U.S. oligarchs offshored manufacturing to China for profit—not diplomacy—gutting the middle class, crashing the working class, and leaving Americans with stagnating wages, unaffordable healthcare, mass addiction, and what he calls “flag-waving poverty made in China.” Meanwhile, he says, China reinvested its profits into its people, raising living standards and building infrastructure.

“What did your oligarchs do? They bought yachts, private jets, and mansions… You get stagnated wages, crippling healthcare costs, cheap dopamine, debt, and flag-waving poverty made in China.”

He ends with a provocative call: “You don’t need another tariff. You need to wake up… You need a revolution.”

It’s a blistering populist critique—and one that finds unexpected agreement from Mearsheimer, who said on the show, “I basically agree with him. I think he’s correct.”
A Message That Cuts Across Party Lines

The critique echoes themes found in Donald Trump’s early campaign rhetoric, as well as long-standing leftist arguments about neoliberal betrayal, corporate offshoring, and elite impunity. It’s the kind of message that unites the American underclass in its many forms—service workers, laid-off factory employees, disillusioned veterans, and student debtors alike.

Mearsheimer went on to argue that the U.S. national security establishment itself was compromised—that its consultants and former officials had deep financial ties to China, making them unwilling to confront the geopolitical risks of China’s rise. According to him, elites were more invested in their own gain than in the national interest.

But that raises an even more complicated question.

 
Is This an Authentic Voice—or a CCP Production?

The most provocative—and potentially overlooked—aspect of this story is the medium itself: TikTok, which is owned by ByteDance, a company under heavy scrutiny for its ties to the Chinese Communist Party (CCP). Could this slick, emotionally resonant video be part of a broader soft-power campaign?

The Chinese government has invested heavily in media operations that shape global narratives. While the content of the message may be factually accurate or emotionally true for many Americans, it’s not hard to imagine the CCP welcoming—if not engineering—videos that sow further division and distrust within the United States.

The video’s flawless production, powerful rhetoric, and clever framing—presenting China as the responsible partner and the U.S. as self-destructive—align closely with Beijing’s global messaging. Add to this the timing, with U.S.-China tensions running high over tariffs, Taiwan, and global power shifts, and the question becomes unavoidable:

Is this sincere grassroots criticism… or a polished psychological operation?

The answer may be both. It’s entirely possible that the young man believes everything he’s saying. But it’s also likely that content like this is algorithmically favored—or even quietly encouraged—by a platform closely tied to a government with every incentive to highlight American decline.
Weaponized Truth?

This is not a new tactic. During the Cold War, both the U.S. and the USSR employed truth-tellers and defectors to criticize their adversaries. But in today's digital landscape, the boundaries between propaganda, whistleblowing, and legitimate dissent are more porous than ever.

The Higher Education Inquirer has reported extensively on how American elites—across both political parties—have betrayed working people, including within the halls of higher education. That doesn’t mean we should ignore where a message comes from, or what strategic purpose it might serve.

The danger is not just foreign interference. The greater danger may be that such foreign-origin messages ring so true for so many Americans.
A Closing Thought: Listen Carefully, Then Ask Why

The influencer says:

“You let the oligarchs feed your lies while they made you fat, poor, and addicted… I don’t think you need another tariff. You need to wake up.”

He’s not wrong to say Americans have been exploited. But if the message is being boosted by a rival authoritarian state, it’s worth asking why.

America’s problems are real. Its discontent is justified. But as in all revolutions, the question is not only what we’re overthrowing—but what might take its place.

Sources:

Judging Freedom – Judge Andrew Napolitano and Professor John Mearsheimer

TikTok (ByteDance) ownership and CCP ties – Reuters, The New York Times, Wall Street Journal

The Higher Education Inquirer archives on student debt, adjunct labor, and corporate-academic complicity

Pew Research Center – Views of China, U.S. Public Opinion

Congressional hearings on TikTok and national security, 2023–2024

Chegg: A Critical History of a Disruptor Turned Controversy Machine

Chegg, once hailed as a Silicon Valley disruptor democratizing access to education, has undergone a profound and troubling transformation since its founding in 2005. What began as a textbook rental company evolved into a billion-dollar homework help empire—an empire that, critics argue, has done more to undermine academic integrity than to foster genuine learning. Its business model capitalized on the structural weaknesses of American higher education and, in the process, normalized a shadow system of paid cheating.

Origins: Textbooks, Student Debt, and Disruption

Chegg was born at the intersection of inflated textbook costs and the neoliberal university. Founders Osman Rashid and Aayush Phumbhra sought to bring the efficiencies of the sharing economy to the campus bookstore. In its early years, Chegg attracted investor attention by promising cheaper textbook rentals—a modest but important service in an era of spiraling student debt.

But as textbook rentals became commodified, Chegg pivoted. By the early 2010s, it was building a suite of digital services: step-by-step solutions, tutoring, and subscription-based homework help under its Chegg Study brand. When Chegg went public in 2013, it promoted itself not just as a tech company, but as a partner in “student success.” In reality, it had found a way to turn student desperation into a profitable SaaS model.

Homework Help or Cheating-as-a-Service?

Chegg’s transformation into a homework help platform would eventually earn it a darker moniker: “Cheating-as-a-Service.”

Nowhere is this critique more powerfully detailed than in education journalist Derek Newton’s Cheat Sheet, a Substack project dedicated to exposing the industrial-scale cheating facilitated by platforms like Chegg, Course Hero, and Studypool. Newton, who has tracked the issue since 2019, documented case after case in which students used Chegg not to learn—but to submit answers for graded assignments and exams. Faculty across disciplines and institutions began reporting widespread cheating enabled by Chegg, especially during the remote learning surge triggered by COVID-19.

In one issue of Cheat Sheet, Newton wrote:

“Chegg isn’t an education company. It’s a cheating company. It monetizes academic dishonesty, obfuscates accountability, and deflects responsibility while raking in millions in subscription revenue.”

According to Newton, Chegg’s "ask an expert" function—where students submit specific questions and receive solutions within minutes—became a tool of choice for real-time cheating during online exams. Despite university honor codes, many students saw Chegg as a normalized part of academic life. Meanwhile, Chegg’s refusal to proactively block cheating or cooperate fully with universities left institutions scrambling.

Pandemic Profits and Ethical Collapse

During the COVID-19 pandemic, as universities shifted online, Chegg’s subscriber base soared. Students confined to Zoom classrooms flocked to digital platforms for support—or shortcuts. By 2021, Chegg had nearly 7 million subscribers and posted annual revenues of $776 million. Its stock price peaked above $100 in February 2021.

But that growth came with growing backlash. Professors and academic integrity officers called for investigations. Some universities demanded IP logs and timestamps from Chegg in academic misconduct cases. In response, Chegg adopted a policy of releasing user data only under subpoena—shifting the burden to faculty and administrators.

Chegg, for its part, insisted it was simply offering "study support" and denied facilitating cheating. But the evidence presented in Newton’s Cheat Sheet and other academic publications told a different story.

Collapse, AI Disruption, and Image Repair

In 2023, a new threat emerged: OpenAI’s ChatGPT. Free, flexible, and fast, ChatGPT began to supplant Chegg for the same user base. In a rare moment of corporate honesty, Chegg CEO Dan Rosensweig told investors that ChatGPT was impacting the company’s subscriber growth. Wall Street panicked. Chegg’s stock plummeted, its valuation shrank, and the company began rounds of layoffs—first 4% of its workforce, then 23% in 2024.

Desperate to stay relevant, Chegg pivoted again—this time toward “CheggMate,” its proprietary AI chatbot built in partnership with OpenAI. Yet the damage to its brand, and its future, was already apparent.

By 2025, Chegg was struggling to define its purpose in a rapidly changing education tech landscape. Its subscription model had been undermined by free AI. Its name remained tainted by years of academic dishonesty. And efforts to shift into AI tutoring raised further concerns about data privacy, surveillance, and automation in learning.

A Mirror of Higher Education’s Failures

Chegg’s rise and fall cannot be understood in isolation. It thrived in a system where students are overburdened, instructors are underpaid, and administrators look the other way as long as graduation rates and tuition dollars remain stable. Its gig-based backend—where underpaid "experts" supply answers for a global audience—mirrors the adjunctification of academic labor itself.

Derek Newton’s Cheat Sheet and other critical reporting have exposed how edtech platforms exploit the credibility crisis in higher education. The real scandal isn’t just that Chegg exists—it’s that the ecosystem made it necessary.

Conclusion

Chegg’s legacy may one day be viewed not as a revolution in learning, but as a symptom of higher education’s marketized decline. Like diploma mills and for-profit colleges before it, Chegg served the needs of students abandoned by the system—but did so at the cost of academic trust and intellectual growth.

As the AI era unfolds, and companies like Chegg scramble to reposition themselves, the Higher Education Inquirer will continue to ask: who profits, who pays, and who is left behind?

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Sources

• Derek Newton, Cheat Sheet newsletter: https://cheatsheet.substack.com

• Chegg Inc. 10-K and Investor Calls (2015–2025)

• The Chronicle of Higher Education, “Is Chegg Helping or Hurting?”

• Inside Higher Ed, “Chegg, ChatGPT, and the New Arms Race in EdTech”

• Bloomberg, “Chegg Warns of ChatGPT Threat”

• Reddit threads: r/Professors, r/College, r/AcademicIntegrity

• The Markup, “Chegg’s Gig-Economy Model and Academic Labor”

• The Atlantic, “The Cheating Economy”

• Higher Education Inquirer Archives on EdTech and Academic Integrity