Robocolleges vs. Public Universities: Debt, Dropouts, and a Fraying Future

As the landscape of American higher education continues to shift, the divide between public universities and tech-heavy “robocolleges” has grown increasingly apparent. Once promoted as affordable and innovative, robocolleges are now under scrutiny for fostering high student debt and low graduation rates.

These institutions prioritize automation, outsourcing, and marketing over traditional teaching models, often sidelining academic integrity in favor of scalability.

Comparing Outcomes: Public Universities vs. Robocolleges

Feature	Public Universities	Robocolleges (e.g., for-profit/online-heavy)
Average Student Debt	~$18,350 at graduation	~$29,000 or higher
Graduation Rates	~60% for full-time students	Often below 30%
Support Services	Academic advising, tutoring, career centers	Often outsourced or minimal
Faculty Interaction	In-person, tenured professors	Automated systems or adjuncts
Cost Efficiency	Lower tuition, especially in-state	Higher cost per credit hour
Outcomes	Better job placement and earnings potential	Mixed results, often lower ROI

Sources: National Center for Education Statistics; Higher Education Inquirer research

Who Are the Robocolleges?

The following institutions have been identified by the Higher Education Inquirer as leading examples of the robocollege model:

• Liberty University Online: A nonprofit institution with massive online enrollment and over $8 billion in federal student loan debt, especially at the graduate level.

• Southern New Hampshire University (SNHU): With more than 160,000 online students, SNHU has become a leader in automation and AI-driven instruction.

• University of Phoenix: Once the largest for-profit college, now operating as a nonprofit affiliate of the University of Idaho. It has reduced instruction and services by $100 million annually while maintaining high profits.

• Colorado Technical University (CTU): Known for its use of machine learning and data analytics to manage student advising and engagement.

• Purdue University Global: A public university operating a former for-profit model, with deep ties to Kaplan Education and significant outsourcing.

• University of Arizona Global Campus (UAGC): Formerly Ashford University, now part of the University of Arizona system. It offers accelerated online degrees with limited faculty interaction.

The Robocollege Model

These schools rely on automated learning platforms, outsourced services, and aggressive marketing to attract students—often working adults, veterans, and low-income learners. While they promise flexibility and access, critics argue they deliver shallow curricula, minimal support, and poor job placement.

The Consequences

Many students leave robocolleges with significant debt and no degree to show for it. Partnerships with Online Program Managers (OPMs) like 2U and EducationDynamics have drawn criticism for deceptive recruitment practices and inflated costs. Public confidence in higher ed is eroding, and students are increasingly seeking alternative routes to meaningful work.

What’s Next?

As tuition costs rise and outcomes falter, the Higher Education Inquirer will continue investigating whether robocolleges represent a legitimate future for learning—or a cautionary tale of commercialized education gone awry.

What the Pentagon Doesn’t Want You to See: For-Profit Colleges in the Military-Industrial-Education Complex

[Editor's note: The Higher Education Inquirer has emailed these FOIA documents to ProPublica and the Republic Report.  We will send these documents to any additional media and any individuals who request for the information. We are also seeking experts who can help us review and decipher the information that has been released.]   

On July 3, 2025, the Higher Education Inquirer received the latest response from the U.S. Department of Defense (DoD) regarding FOIA request 22-F-1203—our most recent effort in a nearly eight-year campaign to uncover how subprime and for-profit colleges have preyed on military servicemembers, veterans, and their families. 

The response included confirmation that 1,420 pages of documents were located. But of those, 306 pages were withheld in full, and 1,114 were released only with heavy redactions.  A few for-profit colleges—Trident University International, Grand Canyon University, DeVry University, and American Public University System (which includes American Military University and American Public University)—were specifically mentioned in the partially visible content.

 

And yet the larger truth remains hidden. The names of other institutions known to have exploited military-connected students—University of Phoenix, Colorado Technical University, American InterContinental University, Purdue University Global, and Liberty University Online, among others—were nowhere to be found in the documents we received. Their absence is conspicuous.

We have been pursuing the truth since December 2017, demanding records that would reveal how the DoD enabled these schools to thrive. We sought the list of the 50 worst-performing colleges receiving Tuition Assistance (TA) funds, based on data compiled under Executive Order 13607 during the Obama Administration. That list was never released. When the Trump Administration took power in 2017, they quietly abandoned the protective measures meant to hold these colleges accountable. Our FOIA request DOD OIG-2019-000702 was denied, with the Pentagon claiming that no such list existed. A second request in 2021 (21-F-0411) was also rejected. And now, more than three years after we filed our 2022 request, the DoD continues to deny the public full access to the truth.

The records we did receive are riddled with legal exemptions: internal deliberations, privacy claims, and most notably, references to 10 U.S.C. § 4021, a law that allows the DoD to withhold details of research transactions outside of traditional grants and contracts. In other words, the Pentagon has built legal firewalls around its relationships with for-profit education providers—and continues to shield bad actors from scrutiny.

But the complicity doesn’t end there. It extends deep into the institutional fabric of how the military interfaces with higher education.

Decades of Systemic Corruption

Since the 1980s, the U.S. Department of Defense has worked hand-in-glove with for-profit colleges through a nonprofit called the Council of College and Military Educators (CCME). What began in the 1970s as a noble initiative to expand access to education for military personnel was hijacked by predatory colleges—including the University of Phoenix—that used the organization as a lobbying front.

These schools infiltrated CCME events, using them to curry favor with military officials, often by hiring veterans as on-base sales agents and even providing alcohol to loosen up potential gatekeepers. While CCME publicly maintained the appearance of academic integrity and service, behind the scenes it served as a conduit for lobbying, influence, and enrollment schemes. Military education officers were schmoozed, manipulated, and in some cases, quietly co-opted. This is something you won’t find in CCME’s official history.

We have been told by multiple insiders that the partnership between DoD and these schools was not just tolerated but actively nurtured. Attempts at reform came and went. Investigations were buried. Promises to "do better" evaporated. No one was held accountable. No one went to jail. But the damage has been lasting—measured in ruined credit, wasted benefits, and lives derailed by fraudulent degrees and broken promises.

The Trump-Hegseth Department of Defense

And still, new scandals—except those uncovered by us—go largely unreported. The media has moved on. Congressional attention has shifted. And the same schools, or their rebranded successors, continue to operate freely, often under the protective shadow of military partnerships.

Today, the DoD continues to deny that the DODOIG-2019-000702 list of the 50 worst schools even exists. But we know otherwise. Based on VA data, whistleblower accounts, and independent reporting, we are confident that this list was compiled—and buried. The question is why. And the answer may very well lie in the unredacted names of institutions too politically connected or too legally protected to be exposed.

The Higher Education Inquirer will not stop pushing for those names, those communications, and that accountability. Because behind every redaction is a servicemember who trusted the system—and got scammed. Behind every delay is a taxpayer footing the bill for worthless credentials. Behind every refusal to act is a government too intertwined with profit to protect its own people.

This is not just a story of bureaucratic inertia. It is a story of complicity at the highest levels. And it is ongoing.

Related links:
DoD review: 0% of schools following TA rules (Military Times, 2018)
Schools are struggling to meet TA rules, but DoD isn’t punishing them. Here’s why. (Military Times, 2019)

University of Virginia President is Latest Casualty of Trump's War Against Higher Education

In a political environment increasingly hostile to independent academic thought, University of Virginia President James E. Ryan has become the latest victim of a broader right-wing campaign to reshape American higher education. On June 26, 2025, President Ryan announced he would step down in 2026 amid escalating political pressure from Governor Glenn Youngkin and conservative donors aligned with former President Donald Trump’s ideological movement.

Ryan’s departure signals a new phase in what many scholars, faculty advocates, and civil liberties organizations describe as a calculated “war on higher education.” This campaign—led by Trump-aligned political figures and well-funded conservative think tanks—seeks to silence dissent, reshape curricula, and exert direct control over public universities once considered bastions of academic freedom.

From Jefferson's Dream to a Political Battleground

Founded by Thomas Jefferson as an Enlightenment-era experiment in self-governance and inquiry, the University of Virginia (UVA) has long held symbolic and practical importance in debates over the role of public higher education. But in the Trump era—and its aftermath—UVA has become a target for ideologues determined to transform universities into instruments of state-aligned conservatism.

Under Governor Youngkin, a UVA alumnus with close ties to Trump’s network of political operatives and donors, the Board of Visitors has seen a rightward shift. Youngkin has appointed multiple trustees who are openly critical of so-called “woke ideology,” DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) programs, and what they describe as the “leftist capture” of the academy.

Behind the scenes, donors aligned with conservative power brokers—some of whom also back organizations like the Manhattan Institute and the Heritage Foundation—have pushed for greater oversight of faculty hiring, curriculum design, and student programming. These efforts have been coupled with demands for ideological “balance,” often interpreted as enforced conservatism within departments historically committed to independent research and peer-reviewed scholarship.

The Pressure Mounts

President Ryan, who took office in 2018, initially enjoyed broad support. A legal scholar and former dean of Harvard’s Graduate School of Education, he worked to increase access for low-income students, build partnerships across ideological lines, and maintain UVA’s national reputation as a top-tier research institution.

But in the polarized landscape of post-2020 politics, Ryan found himself increasingly isolated. His support for DEI initiatives and resistance to political interference in hiring practices drew fire from right-wing media and activists who accused him of promoting “Marxism” and “anti-American” values. Conservative lawmakers in Virginia began threatening funding, while pressure from the Board of Visitors grew more intense and public.

By spring 2025, insiders say, it became clear that Ryan was being pushed toward the door. His announcement on June 26 came just months after similar resignations or removals of university leaders in Florida, Texas, and North Carolina—all states where Republican governors and legislatures have tightened their grip on higher education institutions.

Part of a Broader Campaign

Ryan’s resignation is not an isolated incident. It is the latest in a national trend of politically motivated purges of university leadership. In Florida, Governor Ron DeSantis oversaw the forced transformation of New College into a conservative stronghold, appointing culture warriors to the board and replacing leadership. In Texas, universities have seen crackdowns on DEI offices, faculty tenure protections, and academic freedom under the guise of “protecting free speech.”

Former President Trump and his surrogates have repeatedly framed colleges and universities as enemies of the people, accusing them of indoctrinating youth and undermining national unity. Trump-aligned media outlets have amplified attacks on liberal arts programs, gender studies departments, and student activism, framing higher education as a battleground in the culture war.

Meanwhile, dark money groups such as the American Council of Trustees and Alumni (ACTA) and the Federalist Society continue to shape governance reforms that reduce faculty power and increase donor and political influence. Some universities have faced legislation requiring loyalty pledges or mandating ideological reporting, tactics reminiscent of Cold War-era McCarthyism.

The Stakes for the Future

The forced resignation of James Ryan represents more than the loss of a single university president—it is a bellwether of a changing higher education landscape. The public university, once envisioned as a bulwark of democratic inquiry and upward mobility, is being redefined by those who see knowledge not as a public good but as a political threat.

For faculty, staff, and students at UVA and beyond, the message is chilling: conform or be replaced. The right’s war on higher education shows no signs of slowing. With the 2026 midterm elections on the horizon and the Trump faction consolidating control over multiple states, more university leaders may soon face the same fate as President Ryan.

In this struggle, what is at stake is not only academic freedom, but the future of American democracy.

Harvard, Russia, and the Quiet Complicity of American Higher Education

In the fog of elite diplomacy and global finance, some of the United States' most prestigious universities—chief among them, Harvard—have long had entangled and often opaque relationships with authoritarian regimes. While recent headlines focus on China’s influence in higher education, far less attention has been paid to the role elite U.S. institutions have played in legitimizing, enabling, and profiting from post-Soviet Russia’s slide into oligarchy and repression.

The Harvard-Russia Nexus

Harvard University, through its now-infamous Harvard Institute for International Development (HIID), was a key player in Russia's economic transition following the collapse of the Soviet Union. During the 1990s, HIID, backed by millions of dollars in U.S. government aid through the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), provided advice on privatization and market reforms in Russia. This effort, touted as a cornerstone of democracy promotion, instead helped consolidate power among a small class of oligarchs, fueling the economic inequality and corruption that ultimately laid the foundation for Vladimir Putin's authoritarian rule.

Harvard’s involvement reached scandalous proportions. In 2001, the U.S. Department of Justice sued Harvard, economist Andrei Shleifer (a professor in Harvard's Economics Department), and others for self-dealing and conflict of interest. Shleifer and his associates were found to have used their insider access to enrich themselves and their families through Russian investments, all while supposedly advising the Russian government on behalf of the American taxpayer. Harvard eventually paid $26.5 million to settle the case.

Though the scandal damaged HIID's reputation and led to its closure, the broader complicity of the academic and financial elite in exploiting Russia’s vulnerability during the 1990s has received little sustained scrutiny.

Lawrence Summers and the Russian Connection

At the center of this story sits Lawrence Summers—a former Harvard president, U.S. Treasury Secretary, and one of the most powerful figures in the transatlantic economic order. Summers was both mentor and close associate of Andrei Shleifer. During the critical years of Russian privatization, Summers served as Undersecretary and later Secretary of the Treasury under President Clinton, while Shleifer operated HIID’s Russia project.

Despite the blatant conflict of interest, Summers never publicly disavowed Shleifer's actions. After returning to Harvard, he brought Shleifer back into the university’s good graces, protecting his tenured position and helping him avoid serious institutional consequences. This protection underscored the tight-knit nature of elite networks where accountability is rare and reputations are guarded like intellectual property.

Summers himself has invested in Russia through various vehicles over the years, and has held lucrative advisory roles with financial firms deeply enmeshed in post-Soviet economies. He also played an advisory role for Russian tech giant Yandex and has appeared at events sponsored by firms with deep Russian connections. While Summers has since criticized the Putin regime, his earlier role in enabling the very conditions that empowered it is seldom discussed in polite academic company.

A Broader Pattern of Complicity

Harvard is not alone. Institutions like Stanford, Yale, Georgetown, and the University of Chicago have produced scholars, consultants, and think tanks that helped construct the framework of neoliberal transition in Russia and Eastern Europe. These universities not only trained many of the Russian technocrats who later served in Putin’s government, but also quietly benefited from international partnerships, fellowships, and endowments tied to post-Soviet wealth.

Endowments at elite institutions remain shrouded in secrecy, and it is not always possible to trace the sources of foreign gifts or investments. But it’s clear that Russian oligarchs—many of whom owe their fortunes to the very privatization schemes U.S. economists championed—have made donations to elite Western universities or served on their advisory boards. Some sponsored academic centers and fellowships designed to burnish their reputations or reframe narratives about Russia’s transformation.

The Death of a Dissident

The failure of Western academic institutions to reckon with their role in Russia’s descent into authoritarianism became all the more glaring with the death of Alexei Navalny in February 2024. Navalny, a fierce critic of corruption and Putin’s regime, was imprisoned and ultimately killed for challenging the very system that U.S. advisers like those from Harvard helped engineer. While universities issued public statements condemning his death, few acknowledged the deeper complicity of their faculty, programs, and funders in building the oligarchic structures Navalny spent his life trying to dismantle.

Navalny repeatedly exposed how Russian wealth was funneled into offshore accounts and Western real estate, often aided by a global network of enablers—including lawyers, bankers, and academics in the West. His death is not just a symbol of Putin’s brutality—it is also a damning indictment of the institutions, both in Russia and abroad, that failed to stop it and, in many cases, profited along the way.

Where is the Accountability?

Despite the Shleifer scandal and Russia’s authoritarian consolidation, there has been no independent reckoning from Harvard or its peer institutions about their role in the failures of the 1990s or the long-term consequences of their economic evangelism. The neoliberal ideology that fueled these efforts—steeped in faith in free markets, minimal regulation, and elite technocracy—remains dominant in elite policy circles, even as it faces growing critique from both left and right.

Meanwhile, institutions like Harvard continue to influence global policy through their academic prestige, think tanks, and alumni networks. They remain powerful arbiters of truth—shaping how the public understands foreign policy, democracy, and capitalism—while rarely acknowledging their own entanglement in the darker chapters of globalization.

Elite Academia and Oligarchy

The story of Harvard and Russia is not just a tale of one institution’s failure; it is emblematic of the broader failure of elite American academia to confront its own role in the spread of oligarchy, inequality, and authoritarianism under the banner of liberal democracy. In an age when higher education is under increased scrutiny for its political and financial entanglements, the need for critical journalism and public accountability has never been greater.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to investigate these complex relationships—and demand transparency from the institutions that claim to serve the public good, while operating behind a veil of privilege and power. Navalny’s sacrifice deserves more than hollow statements. It requires a full accounting of how the system he died fighting was built—with help from the most powerful university in the world.

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.

Cybersecurity Threats, Fascism, and Higher Education

American higher education stands at a dangerous crossroads—caught between the encroachment of authoritarian surveillance at home and the very real cybersecurity threats from adversarial states abroad. On one side, we see the growth of data collection and domestic monitoring that risks silencing dissent and undermining academic freedom. On the other, sophisticated cyberattacks from nation-states like Russia, China, Iran, Israel, and North Korea present significant threats to intellectual property, national security, and the safety of digital infrastructure on campus.

This double-edged sword raises urgent questions about the role of higher education in a time of rising fascism, geopolitical instability, and digital vulnerability.

In recent years, colleges and universities have become sites of intensified digital monitoring. Student protesters, faculty activists, and visiting scholars find themselves increasingly under surveillance by both state agencies and private contractors. Under the guise of “safety” and “cybersecurity,” dissident voices—especially those speaking out on issues like Palestine, racial justice, climate collapse, and labor rights—are monitored, flagged, and at times disciplined.

Campus security partnerships with local police and federal agencies like the FBI, DHS, and ICE have created a new surveillance architecture that chills free speech and suppresses organizing. Social media is mined. Emails are monitored. Student groups that once flourished in the open now meet with the paranoia of being watched or labeled as threats. This chilling effect is especially acute for international students and scholars from the Global South, who face disproportionate scrutiny, travel restrictions, and visa denials. These policies don’t just protect against threats—they enforce a top-down political orthodoxy. In some cases, administrators have even turned over data to law enforcement in response to political pressure, lawsuits, or fear of reputational harm. The dream of the university as a bastion of free inquiry is fading in the fog of surveillance capitalism and political fear.

Particularly concerning is the growing role of powerful tech firms like Palantir Technologies in higher education's security infrastructure. Originally developed with backing from the CIA’s venture capital arm, In-Q-Tel, Palantir’s software is designed for mass data aggregation, predictive policing, and counterinsurgency-style surveillance. While marketed as tools for campus safety and data management, Palantir’s platforms can also be used to monitor student behavior, track political activism, and identify so-called “threats” that align more with ideological dissent than legitimate security concerns. The company has existing contracts with numerous universities and research institutions, embedding itself in the heart of higher ed’s decision-making and information systems with little public accountability.

At the same time, the threat from foreign actors is not imaginary. Russian disinformation campaigns have targeted U.S. universities, attempting to sow discord through social media and exploit political divisions on campus. Iranian state-sponsored hackers have stolen research from American institutions, targeting fields like nuclear science, engineering, and public health. Chinese entities have been accused of both cyberespionage and aggressive recruitment of U.S.-trained researchers through programs like the Thousand Talents Plan, sparking controversy and xenophobic backlash. While some fears have been overstated or politically weaponized, evidence shows that intellectual property theft and cyber intrusion are persistent issues.

Meanwhile, Israel’s cyber industry—including firms founded by former Israeli intelligence operatives—has sold spyware and surveillance tools to governments and corporations worldwide. NSO Group’s Pegasus spyware, for instance, has reportedly been used to target academics, journalists, and activists. American campuses are not exempt from these tools’ reach—particularly when it comes to Palestine advocacy and international collaborations.

The paradox is clear: The same institutions that should be defending democratic ideals and global collaboration are being co-opted into both authoritarian domestic surveillance and militarized cyberdefense. There is an alarming convergence of corporate cybersecurity contractors, intelligence agencies, and university bureaucracies—often with little transparency or oversight. Federal funding tied to defense and homeland security has made some universities complicit in this surveillance regime. Others have turned to private cybersecurity vendors like Palantir, which quietly build intrusive systems that blur the lines between threat detection and political policing. In this environment, real cybersecurity is essential—but it must not become a tool for repression.

What is needed is a dual approach that protects against foreign and criminal cyberthreats without succumbing to the authoritarian logic of mass surveillance. Universities must protect academic freedom by enforcing strict policies against political monitoring and reaffirming the rights of students and faculty to speak, organize, and dissent. They must ensure transparency and oversight over cybersecurity operations and external partnerships, particularly those involving military and intelligence-linked firms. They must support digital security for activists and marginalized groups, not just administrative systems. And they must strengthen internal cyberdefenses through open-source tools, decentralized networks, and ethical cybersecurity education—not just corporate solutions that prioritize control over community.

We cannot allow the logic of the Cold War to be reborn in the form of digital McCarthyism. Higher education must be a firewall against fascism—not a pipeline for it. As we confront 21st-century cyberconflicts and political extremism, universities must ask themselves: Are we defending truth and inquiry—or enabling the very systems that undermine them? The answer will shape the future of higher education—and democracy itself.

A Growing Wall: International Students from Dozens of Nations Face Potential U.S. Entry Ban

Under President Donald Trump’s second term, U.S. immigration policy has taken another dramatic and punitive turn—this time targeting international students not only from historically marginalized nations but also from America’s largest educational partners. A leaked State Department memo dated June 14 warns that 36 additional countries, most of them in Africa, face imminent visa restrictions unless they meet stringent new compliance standards within 60 days. The consequences could be devastating—not just for prospective students, but for those already here, many of whom have been detained, deported, or left the country in fear.

While the list in the memo includes countries such as Nigeria, Egypt, Ghana, Ethiopia, and Cameroon—nations that send thousands of students to the United States—what is already unfolding extends beyond the African continent. Students from China and India, the top two sources of international enrollment in the U.S., have also found themselves caught in an increasingly hostile environment.

Hundreds of students from China and India have already been detained, interrogated, and in some cases deported at airports across the U.S., even when holding valid visas. Customs and Border Protection agents have reportedly cited vague “national security concerns” or accused students of being affiliated with banned organizations, including universities linked to Chinese military or surveillance activity. In some instances, students have been denied entry without access to legal representation, held overnight, and put on planes home.

In April, multiple Indian graduate students—some with full scholarships—were refused entry at U.S. airports and summarily deported. Others have chosen to abandon their programs altogether, fearing further harassment or immigration complications. The same pattern is playing out among Chinese students, especially those in STEM fields, who are now seen by some U.S. officials as potential security threats.

Meanwhile, the State Department’s June 14 memo sets its sights on a broad new swath of countries. If restrictions go into effect, they will impact not only future student visa applicants but also those currently enrolled in the U.S. who may soon find themselves unable to renew visas, travel for family emergencies, or continue their studies without disruption.

The original June 4 proclamation—Proclamation 10949—already banned entry from countries including Afghanistan, Iran, Libya, Sudan, and Yemen. But the new, expanded list includes 36 additional countries such as Angola, Benin, Cambodia, Cameroon, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Liberia, Malawi, Niger, Syria, Uganda, and Zimbabwe. Many of these nations have only a modest number of students in the U.S., but several—like Nigeria, Ghana, Egypt, and Ethiopia—have longstanding educational ties and large student populations.

Even institutions such as the University of Pennsylvania have acknowledged disruptions. More than 200 of their international students and scholars are reportedly affected by the current travel bans. Administrators have warned students from targeted countries not to leave the U.S. for fear they won't be allowed to return. Legal clinics and international offices are overwhelmed, and some campuses are quietly reassessing how much they can rely on foreign enrollment moving forward.

For many universities, the timing couldn’t be worse. Shrinking domestic enrollment, financial shortfalls, and growing political hostility toward diversity, equity, and global engagement have already strained budgets and missions. International students, who often pay full tuition, have long been seen as a financial lifeline for underfunded institutions. Now, that lifeline is fraying—if not being intentionally cut.

The Trump administration’s framing of these changes centers on alleged concerns over visa overstays, document fraud, and national security. But critics argue the administration is using fear to further a nationalist agenda—one that openly targets Black and brown-majority nations, and casts suspicion on even the most vetted international applicants.

The damage to the reputation of American higher education may be incalculable. Canada, Australia, Germany, and the UK have already begun to benefit from the perception that the U.S. is hostile to foreign students. University partnerships, research initiatives, and global talent recruitment are all at risk. So too is the decades-long project of soft diplomacy that American education once represented.

And the fear is real. Stories of students being detained or deported without warning are now common in diaspora communities. International student applications to U.S. universities are dropping. Families abroad are beginning to steer their children away from what once was the gold standard of global education.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to track these developments. With the stroke of a pen, thousands of academic journeys could be disrupted or ended altogether. For now, uncertainty hangs over a system that once claimed to be open to the world—and now looks increasingly closed off.

The Newest Need for Underground College Newspapers

In an era dominated by social media noise, shrinking professional newsrooms, and increasing institutional secrecy, the revival and reinvention of college and university newspapers may be more necessary than ever. While many campus publications have suffered cutbacks or collapsed entirely due to budget constraints, digital overload, and administrative pressure, the need for independent student journalism remains urgent—perhaps even existential.

A Vanishing Watchdog

Over the last two decades, local news in the United States has been gutted. College towns, often reliant on regional papers, have lost a critical layer of scrutiny. In parallel, many campus newspapers—once robust training grounds for journalists and fierce watchdogs of university governance—have withered. Some have been absorbed into PR arms of institutions, with student journalists pressured or co-opted into serving administrative narratives.

Yet as colleges and universities face profound challenges—rising tuition, falling enrollment, mounting debt, labor unrest, and political scrutiny—the lack of independent, on-the-ground reporting has created an information vacuum. In this environment, truth becomes malleable, accountability erodes, and institutional failures are too often buried in silence.

A New Generation, A New Role

Despite setbacks, a growing number of student journalists are pushing back. At the University of Southern California, The Daily Trojan exposed administrative mismanagement related to sexual assault. At Northwestern, The Daily Northwestern has tackled controversies involving faculty conduct and institutional transparency. And at Columbia University, The Columbia Daily Spectator has taken on the university’s relationship with gentrification in Harlem.

What distinguishes these publications isn't just their resilience—it's their refusal to accept a narrow definition of campus journalism. Today’s best student reporters are not only covering student government meetings or campus events—they're digging into real estate deals, institutional investments, labor practices, and even international connections, from Chinese academic partnerships to private equity control of online education.

The Decline and Co-optation

However, these examples are exceptions. Across the country, hundreds of student newspapers have been diminished or dissolved. Many that survive are chronically underfunded or rely on the goodwill of the same administrations they should be scrutinizing. Others have been folded into university communication departments, effectively becoming tools of branding and enrollment marketing.

Some student journalists now face soft censorship: the pressure not to publish controversial stories that could harm a university’s reputation or donor relations. Others deal with harder forms—budget threats, advisor firings, or limited access to information. In some cases, entire newspapers have been shuttered without consultation with students or faculty.

Why They Matter Now More Than Ever

Today’s higher education system is in flux. Tuition costs and student debt are under scrutiny. Title IX enforcement, labor rights for adjuncts and graduate workers, and diversity policies are politically weaponized. Public confidence in higher ed is declining, while financial mismanagement and administrative bloat continue largely unchecked.

Who will report on these issues if not the students on the ground?

Student newspapers offer more than just training—they’re democratic institutions. They give voice to marginalized students, expose inequities, and hold those in power accountable. In some communities, they’re the only media outlet asking tough questions. They also play a critical role in informing not just students but alumni, faculty, staff, and policymakers.

What Must Be Done

The revival of college newspapers requires real support—not just from universities, but from alumni, independent media, philanthropic organizations, and readers. This support must come without strings attached. Autonomy is the bedrock of journalism.

Foundations that support civic engagement and press freedom should consider earmarking funds specifically for independent campus journalism. Public universities should be held accountable for supporting—rather than stifling—student voices. Faculty allies can advocate for journalism programs and protect the academic freedom of student reporters.

In this new media age, campus newspapers must also evolve: adopting hybrid revenue models, building investigative teams, collaborating with local and national outlets, and using digital tools to reach broader audiences.

Preserving Democracy on and Off Campus  

The new need for college and university newspapers is not simply about preserving an academic tradition. It’s about preserving democratic infrastructure in an increasingly privatized and opaque sector of American life. If students are told that higher education is meant to prepare them to lead and serve in a democratic society, then empowering them to investigate, critique, and question their institutions is not optional—it is essential.

The Higher Education Inquirer stands with those student journalists who refuse to be silenced, and who still believe that the truth—even on campus—is worth fighting for.

Ambow Education's Latest Move Raises Red Flags—A Second Warning to Colorado State University

On June 11, Ambow Education Holding Ltd. (NYSE American: AMBO) announced the appointment of James Bartholomew as its new president, emphasizing his leadership experience at DeVry University and Adtalem Global Education. While this move is being framed as part of a bold pivot toward global expansion through its hybrid learning platform, HybriU, the deeper reality of Ambow’s operations suggests that institutions like Colorado State University (CSU) should proceed with extreme caution.

Ambow Education is no stranger to controversy. In May 2022, The Higher Education Inquirer began investigating the company after credible tips about its mismanagement of Bay State College in Boston. The Massachusetts Attorney General had already fined the school in 2020 for misleading students. By August 2023, Bay State College closed abruptly, leaving behind a mess for students and staff. Throughout this time, Ambow operated with an alarming level of opacity, raising concerns among journalists, regulators, and public officials—including Senator Elizabeth Warren and Representative Ayanna Pressley.

Ambow’s financial practices and leadership structure have remained elusive, with lingering ties to the People’s Republic of China (PRC). The company sold its PRC-based assets in 2022 and relocated to a small office in Cupertino, California, but its auditor remains based in China, and it has expressed interest in projects in Morocco and Tunisia involving Chinese-affiliated partners. The proverb about fishing in murky waters aptly describes how Ambow has operated in both Chinese and American markets.

Now, Ambow is promoting HybriU, a “phygital” platform it claims is revolutionizing education and corporate communication. Marketed heavily at events like CES and ASU-GSV, HybriU has been linked to a $1.3 million contract with a small firm in Singapore, but no major U.S. clients have been named. Visuals from the company’s website include stock images, and there’s no publicly available evidence that HybriU is delivering measurable results in any real-world education setting. The platform’s “OOOK” (One-on-One Knowledge) technology was first introduced in China in 2021, but it has yet to prove itself in American classrooms.

James Bartholomew’s appointment appears to be aimed at lending credibility to the HybriU initiative. However, his background warrants a closer look. DeVry University, where Bartholomew previously served as CEO, was embroiled in a long list of scandals, including a $100 million settlement with the Federal Trade Commission in 2016 for deceptive advertising practices. These included inflated job placement claims and misleading earnings expectations for graduates. The Department of Education also scrutinized DeVry for poor student loan repayment metrics and aggressive recruiting tactics.

At Adtalem Global Education—DeVry’s former parent company—similar concerns persisted. Offshore medical schools under Adtalem’s umbrella, such as Ross University and American University of the Caribbean, were criticized for high tuition, student debt, and low U.S. residency placement rates. The company spent years lobbying against federal gainful employment regulations that were designed to protect students from predatory institutions. While Bartholomew may not have initiated these practices, he held leadership roles during a time when the institutions were navigating declining trust, financial turbulence, and increasing regulatory scrutiny.

Against this backdrop, reports have emerged that Colorado State University is considering a partnership with Ambow to implement the HybriU platform. On the surface, this might seem like a step toward innovation and flexibility in digital learning. But such a partnership could expose CSU to national security and data privacy risks, regulatory backlash, reputational damage, and questionable academic outcomes.

Given Ambow’s historical ties to the PRC, questions have been raised about the possibility of exposing sensitive university data to foreign surveillance or influence. CSU is a major research university with partnerships across science, defense, and technology. Even the perception that its digital infrastructure could be compromised could undermine public trust and jeopardize government grants and contracts.

The regulatory landscape is also increasingly cautious when it comes to foreign influence, particularly from China, in American higher education. Federal agencies have warned about the risks of partnerships that could compromise institutional independence or data integrity. Entering into a relationship with a firm like Ambow could place CSU under increased scrutiny or spark political backlash.

From a pedagogical perspective, HybriU is unproven. It has yet to demonstrate any significant results in U.S. education settings, and its claims are not substantiated by independent data. Adopting a platform without a strong record could endanger CSU’s teaching mission and student learning experiences at a time when the credibility of online education remains fragile.

Historically, investors and institutions have backed away from Ambow. The company was delisted from the NYSE in 2014 following accounting fraud allegations and shareholder lawsuits. It has struggled to maintain financial health and transparency. Its last remaining U.S. college, NewSchool of Architecture and Design in San Diego, has just 280 students and is currently under Heightened Cash Monitoring (HCM2) by the U.S. Department of Education. Lawsuits in San Diego allege non-payment of rent and unpaid compensation to the school’s former president. 

Meanwhile, Ambow has commissioned favorable research reports—like one from Argus Research—even though its spending on research and development remains remarkably low, at only $100,000 per quarter. Its current auditor, Prouden CPA, is new to the company’s books and based in China. Whether Ambow’s next annual report will bring clarity or further confusion remains to be seen.

For these reasons, The Higher Education Inquirer urges the leadership of Colorado State University to approach Ambow with skepticism and perform exhaustive due diligence. The CSU community deserves full transparency regarding Ambow’s ownership, financial practices, and data handling policies. Decisions should be made in consultation with cybersecurity experts, faculty, IT professionals, and government advisors. Alternative domestic edtech providers should be considered—especially those that are accountable, proven, and aligned with CSU’s mission.

At a time when public trust in higher education is strained and geopolitical tensions are high, it is not enough to adopt flashy technology for the sake of appearance. Colorado State University—and the taxpayers who support it—deserve better than an experiment based on unproven claims and a troubling history. CSU should reconsider any move forward with Ambow, before it finds itself entangled in another education debacle disguised as innovation.

What do the University of Phoenix and Risepoint have in common? The answer is a compelling story of greed and politics.

In the increasingly commodified world of higher education, the University of Phoenix and Risepoint (formerly Academic Partnerships) represent parallel tales of how private equity, political influence, and deceptive practices have shaped the online college landscape. While their paths have diverged in branding and institutional affiliation, the underlying motives and outcomes share disturbing similarities.

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The University of Phoenix: A Legacy of Legal and Ethical Trouble

The University of Phoenix (UOP) has been a central player in the for-profit college boom, particularly during and after the 2000s. Under the ownership of Apollo Education Group, and later the Vistria Group, UOP has faced a relentless stream of lawsuits, regulatory scrutiny, and public outrage.

In 2019, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) reached a $191 million settlement with UOP over allegations of deceptive advertising. UOP falsely claimed partnerships with major corporations like Microsoft, AT&T, and Twitter to entice students. The result was $50 million in restitution and $141 million in student debt relief.

But the legal troubles didn’t stop there. In 2022 and 2023, the U.S. Department of Education included UOP in a broader class action that granted $37 million in borrower defense discharges. These claims stemmed from deceptive marketing and predatory recruitment practices.

Meanwhile, in 2024, the California Attorney General settled with UOP for $4.5 million over allegations of illegally targeting military service members between 2012 and 2015. The university’s controversial relationship with the military community also led to a temporary VA suspension of GI Bill enrollments in 2020.

The legal history includes False Claims Act suits brought by whistleblowers, including former employees alleging falsified records, incentive-based recruiter pay, and exaggerated graduation and job placement statistics. In 2019, Apollo Education settled a securities fraud lawsuit for $7.4 million.

More recently, UOP has been embroiled in political controversy in Idaho. In 2023 and 2024, the Idaho Attorney General challenged the state's attempt to acquire UOP, citing Open Meetings Act violations and lack of transparency. Though a federal judge initially dismissed the suit, Idaho’s Supreme Court allowed an appeal to proceed.

Through all of this, Vistria Group—UOP’s private equity owner since 2017—has reaped massive profits. Vistria was co-founded by Marty Nesbitt, a close confidant of Barack Obama, underscoring the bipartisan political protection that shields for-profit education from lasting accountability.

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Risepoint and the Online Program Management Model

Risepoint, formerly Academic Partnerships (AP), tells a similarly troubling story, albeit from the Online Program Manager (OPM) side of the education-industrial complex. Founded in 2007 by Randy Best, a well-connected Republican donor with ties to Jeb Bush, AP helped universities build online degree programs in exchange for a significant cut of tuition—sometimes up to 50%.

This tuition-share model, though legal, has raised ethical red flags. Critics argue it diverts millions in public education dollars into private hands, inflates student debt, and incentivizes aggressive, misleading recruitment. The most infamous case was the University of Texas-Arlington, which paid AP more than $178 million over five years. President Vistasp Karbhari resigned in 2020 after it was revealed he had taken international trips funded by AP.

Risepoint was acquired by Vistria Group in 2019, placing it in the same portfolio as the University of Phoenix and other education businesses. The firm’s growing influence in higher education—fueled by Democratic-aligned private equity—reflects a deeper entanglement of politics, policy, and profiteering.

In 2024, Minnesota became the first state to ban new tuition-share agreements with OPMs like Risepoint. This legislative action followed backlash from a controversial deal between Risepoint and St. Cloud State University, where critics accused the firm of extracting excessive revenue while offering questionable value.

Further pressure came from the federal level. In 2024, Senators Elizabeth Warren, Sherrod Brown, and Tina Smith issued letters to major OPMs demanding transparency about recruitment tactics and tuition-share models. The Department of Education followed in January 2025 with new guidance restricting misleading marketing by OPMs, including impersonation of university staff.

Despite this, Risepoint continued expanding. In late 2023, the company purchased Wiley’s online program business for $150 million, signaling consolidation in a turbulent industry. Yet a 2024 report showed 147 OPM-university contracts had been terminated in 2023, and new contracts fell by over 50%.

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What Ties Them Together: Vistria Group

Vistria Group sits at the center of both sagas. The Chicago-based private equity firm has made education—especially online and for-profit education—a core pillar of its investment strategy. With connections to both Democratic and Republican power brokers, Vistria has deftly navigated the regulatory landscape while profiting from public education dollars.

Its ownership of the University of Phoenix and Risepoint demonstrates a clear strategy: acquire distressed or controversial education companies, clean up their public image, and extract revenue while avoiding deep reforms. Through Vistria, private equity gains access to billions in federal student aid with minimal oversight and a bipartisan shield.

The result is a higher education ecosystem where political influence, corporate profit, and public exploitation collide. And whether through online degrees from the University of Phoenix or public-private partnerships with Risepoint, students are often the ones left bearing the cost.

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As scrutiny intensifies and state and federal lawmakers demand reform, the futures of Risepoint and the University of Phoenix remain uncertain. But one thing is clear: their shared story reveals how higher education has become a battleground of greed, power, and politics.

Mergers in U.S. Higher Education: A Sign of the Times

Over the past five years, the American higher education landscape has undergone profound structural changes, as financial pressures, demographic shifts, and political headwinds have forced dozens of colleges and universities to consider mergers, consolidations, or outright closures. Among the most significant and telling of these developments is the proposed merger of two of New Jersey’s public institutions: New Jersey City University (NJCU) and Kean University—a deal emblematic of the broader realignment reshaping higher education across the country.

The New Jersey Merger: A Case Study in Crisis and Adaptation

In March 2025, NJCU and Kean University signed a letter of intent to merge, a move that drew praise from financial watchdogs and marked a pivotal step in NJCU's long road to fiscal recovery. NJCU, with approximately 5,500 students, had faced a steep financial decline over several years, prompting the state of New Jersey to direct the institution to find a fiscally sound partner by April 1, 2025. Kean University, with around 17,000 students and a more stable balance sheet, emerged as that partner.

Just four days after the announcement, Moody’s Investors Service upgraded NJCU’s financial outlook from “stable” to “positive,” citing the planned merger as a major factor. This marked the university’s second ratings boost in just over a year; Moody’s had previously raised its outlook from “negative” to “stable” in early 2024. The credit agency’s report highlighted NJCU’s improved financial strategy, risk management, and leadership credibility—factors that strengthened its standing as a viable merger partner.

NJCU interim president Andrés Acebo called the upgrade “a powerful affirmation of what is possible when a university chooses resilience over retreat, and purpose over paralysis.” Under the terms of the proposed merger, NJCU would be renamed “Kean Jersey City,” and Kean University would assume its assets, liabilities, and executive oversight. A newly appointed chancellor would lead the Jersey City campus.

While the merger is still pending regulatory and accreditation approvals, it could take up to 24 months to finalize. The universities have not yet disclosed whether staffing cuts will be part of the consolidation.

A National Trend Accelerated by Crisis

The NJCU–Kean merger is part of a larger wave of institutional consolidation across the United States—a trend driven by declining enrollment, rising operational costs, shrinking public investment, and demographic shifts, particularly in the Northeast and Midwest.

In Pennsylvania, the state’s system of higher education launched a major consolidation effort in 2021, combining six universities into two new institutions: Commonwealth University of Pennsylvania (a merger of Bloomsburg, Lock Haven, and Mansfield) and PennWest University (California, Clarion, and Edinboro). These mergers, finalized in 2022, were seen as necessary to stem the financial bleeding in a system that had lost nearly 25% of its enrollment over the prior decade.

Similarly, in Georgia, the University System of Georgia has continued its consolidation trend that began in the 2010s. By 2023, the number of public institutions in the state had been reduced from 35 to 26 through various mergers—moves aimed at cutting administrative overhead and reallocating resources.

Private Colleges Under Pressure

Private institutions, particularly small liberal arts colleges with modest endowments, have also been swept up in the merger wave. Mills College in California, a historically women’s college, merged with Northeastern University in 2022 after years of financial instability. The new institution, Mills College at Northeastern University, maintained some of Mills’ legacy programming while benefiting from Northeastern’s expansive infrastructure and global brand.

Similarly, Vermont’s Goddard College and the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston have either merged or been absorbed into larger institutions as stand-alone viability faltered.

In many cases, mergers have been cast as “strategic alliances” or “transformations,” but the underlying impetus has often been survival.

The Role of Credit Agencies and Political Climate

Credit rating agencies like Moody’s, S&P, and Fitch have played an increasingly influential role in shaping merger activity. By downgrading institutions at financial risk and upgrading those pursuing sound partnerships, they are guiding policy decisions and shaping public narratives.

Moody’s March 2025 sector-wide downgrade of U.S. higher education from “stable” to “negative” reflects broader concerns: cuts to research funding, increasing scrutiny of endowments, policy shifts around foreign students, and partisan attacks on academic freedom and diversity initiatives. In this context, even public institutions—once considered relatively safe—are under heightened pressure to demonstrate fiscal responsibility and political neutrality.

The Future of Mergers in Higher Ed

While mergers offer a path forward for some institutions, they are not without risk. Critics point to potential job losses, cultural clashes, mission dilution, and loss of community identity. Supporters argue that, if done thoughtfully, mergers can preserve academic programs, improve financial health, and extend access to underserved populations.

The proposed NJCU–Kean University merger, backed by both state officials and financial markets, may serve as a model—or a cautionary tale—for similar efforts across the country. In an era when higher education is being reshaped by economics, politics, and evolving student needs, mergers are likely to remain a defining feature of the post-pandemic academic landscape.

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This story is part of the Higher Education Inquirer’s continuing coverage of structural changes in U.S. higher education. For more on campus mergers, closures, and the future of public institutions, follow our investigative series on higher ed austerity. 

U.S. Visa Suspensions Under Trump Administration Derail Dreams of Ecuadorian Students (Primicias)

In a sharp blow to international academic mobility, the Trump administration has suspended student visa interviews across U.S. embassies and consulates, leaving thousands of foreign students—including many from Ecuador—in limbo. The policy, though not enshrined in law, is already having profound effects on individuals and institutions alike.

For students like Valeria, a 23-year-old from Quito, the consequences are deeply personal. After receiving her acceptance letter from a university in Pennsylvania and paying her tuition, Valeria now finds herself unsure whether she can even enter the country. “I called the consulate, contacted five immigration attorneys—even my university doesn’t know what’s going on,” she told Primicias. “Nobody can tell me if I’ll be allowed in or deported.”

Valeria’s uncertainty stems from an executive directive that halts interviews for F-1 (academic), M-1 (vocational), and J-1 (exchange visitor) visas—crucial legal pathways for hundreds of thousands of international students entering the U.S. annually. Though the suspension is being framed as temporary, it has already disrupted the educational futures of prospective students worldwide, including many from Latin America.

“This is not a symbolic gesture,” warned U.S.-based immigration consultant Pablo Acosta. “It’s an executive decision with immediate and real-life consequences.”

A Chilling Effect on International Education

International students are more than just a demographic. According to the Institute of International Education (IIE), over one million international students were enrolled in U.S. higher education institutions during the 2022–2023 academic year. They represented about 5.6% of the total U.S. college student population and contributed more than $38 billion to the American economy, according to data from NAFSA: Association of International Educators.

Each institution, on average, hosts about 400 international students, although figures vary significantly depending on size and global ranking. This flow of students not only brings financial support but enriches academic life and sustains graduate programs in STEM, business, and other high-demand fields.

The suspension of visa interviews threatens to destabilize this ecosystem.

Looking Elsewhere: Canada and Europe

The Trump administration’s restrictive stance is driving many Ecuadorian students to look north to Canada or across the Atlantic to Europe. José Villamar, a student from Guayaquil who had planned to study environmental engineering in Texas, described how the suspension has frozen his plans. “Without the visa interview, the university can’t issue my I-20. Everything is on hold.”

Visa advisors are now encouraging students to consider alternatives. “The advantage of Canada is its consistency,” explained Norman Ordóñez, a visa consultant in Ecuador. “You can study, work, and eventually apply for residency. The U.S. is putting that dream on hold. Meanwhile, countries like Germany, Spain, and the Netherlands are becoming more attractive due to their transparent pathways and financial aid programs.”

Collateral Damage: U.S. Higher Ed and the Global Reputation

While the Trump administration frames its policy as a national security and immigration control measure, it risks damaging the global reputation of U.S. higher education. Inconsistency, unpredictability, and politicization of visa policy undermine institutional planning and student confidence.

In interviews with Primicias, affected students expressed despair over losing control of their futures for reasons far beyond their efforts. “The hardest part isn’t changing countries,” said Valeria. “It’s giving up on a dream for reasons that have nothing to do with your hard work.”

The Higher Education Inquirer sees this as part of a broader pattern of hostility toward international engagement within U.S. academia, especially under right-wing populist regimes. The long-term consequences could include a decline in enrollment, brain drain, and weakened international partnerships.

As global education becomes more competitive, the United States may find that once-burned students and institutions don’t easily return.

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For more on this developing story and others impacting international education, student rights, and global equity in higher education, follow The Higher Education Inquirer. 

The Watchdogs of Higher Education: Journalists Covering the College Meltdown

In an era of propaganda, PR masquerading as reporting, and shrinking newsroom budgets, a small cohort of journalists continues to ask the difficult questions about U.S. higher education. These writers are the watchdogs, skeptics, and truth-tellers who probe the system's contradictions—exposing corruption, inequality, and the commodification of learning.

While many mainstream outlets have reduced their education desks or opted for click-friendly content, these journalists persist in a more thankless task: investigating the deeper structures that shape college access, affordability, and legitimacy. Their work is essential in this Digital Dark Age, where universities are marketed like tech products and student debt chains millions to futures they did not choose.

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Current Watchdogs

• Josh Moody (Inside Higher Ed)
  Steady and detail-oriented, Moody explores enrollment cliffs, closures, and the survival of regional public colleges.

• Natalie Schwartz (Higher Ed Dive)
  A sharp analyst of the robocollege sector, Schwartz highlights OPM contracts, predatory recruitment, and accountability gaps.

• Michael Vasquez (The Chronicle)
  Known for hard-hitting investigations into for-profit schemes and enrollment deceptions.

• Stephanie Saul (The New York Times)
  Tackles elite admissions, racial bias, and the mechanisms of legacy advantage.

• Chris Quintana (USA Today)
  Examines the hidden costs of student debt, accreditation breakdowns, and federal oversight failure.

• Derek Newton (Forbes)
  Unflinching in his critiques of online education scams, weak accreditation, and credential inflation.

• David Halperin (Republic Report)
  Legal-minded and relentless, Halperin holds the Department of Education and the for-profit lobby to account.

• Jon Marcus (Hechinger Report / NPR / The Atlantic)
  A veteran storyteller who humanizes systemic crises—affordability, public disinvestment, and policy drift.

• Rick Seltzer (Chronicle of Higher Education)
  A seasoned reporter, Seltzer has focused on the intersection of state and federal policy, accreditation issues, and the financialization of higher education. His investigative pieces often highlight how policy shifts impact institutions serving the most vulnerable students, particularly in the community college sector. Seltzer’s ability to distill complex policy changes into accessible reporting has made him an essential voice in higher ed journalism.

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Those Who’ve Left the Beat (But Not Forgotten)

• Eric Kelderman (formerly The Chronicle of Higher Education)
  Kelderman offered deeply researched policy analysis and was one of the few who bridged the world of federal education policy and on-the-ground campus effects. His departure leaves a vacuum in longform institutional memory.

• Katherine Mangan (formerly The Chronicle)
  Known for profiling marginalized students and faculty, Mangan brought empathy and nuance to her reporting. Her stories exposed how abstract policies hit real people—and her absence is deeply felt.

• Jesse Singal (formerly The Chronicle / NY Mag)
  Though now better known for controversial takes in broader cultural debates, Singal once wrote incisively about the psychology of higher ed policy and the unproven assumptions behind new academic models.

• Paul Fain (formerly Inside Higher Ed)
  A go-to source for OPMs and workforce ed, Fain had a unique grasp of the tension between labor markets and academic missions. He now writes the The Job newsletter for Work Shift, with a narrower focus.

• Kelly Field (formerly The Chronicle / freelance)
  Field’s reporting on federal financial aid and for-profit lobbying was some of the most thorough in the industry. Her exit reflects a broader trend: that deeply informed journalists are often priced or pushed out.

• Goldie Blumenstyk (semi-retired, The Chronicle)
  A longtime chronicler of innovation narratives and public-private partnerships, Blumenstyk now writes occasionally but is no longer on the frontlines. Her absence from regular coverage marks the end of an era.

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Why This Matters

Many of these journalists left not because they lost interest—but because media economics, editorial shifts, or burnout drove them out. The result? Fewer people holding institutions accountable. Fewer watchdogs sniffing out robocollege fraud. Fewer investigations into how DEI is dismantled under political pressure. Less public understanding of how tens of millions became student loan serfs.

In their absence, we see the rise of sponsored content, consultant-driven “thought leadership,” and university propaganda dressed as reporting.

At The Higher Education Inquirer, we believe journalism is not just about reporting the news—it’s about building public memory and resisting amnesia. That’s what these current and former reporters have done. And that’s why we honor both those still in the trenches and those who left with their integrity intact.

If this is truly the Digital Dark Age, then we owe everything to those who kept the lights on—even if only for a while.

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

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

The Rise of Credential Inflation

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

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

Favoring International Degrees

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

Broader Economic and Social Implications

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

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

Navigating the Crisis

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

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

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

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