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Sunday, November 16, 2025

Epstein, Dershowitz, Summers, and the Long Arc of Elite Impunity

For many observers, Jeffrey Epstein, Alan Dershowitz, and Larry Summers appear as separate figures orbiting the world of elite academia, finance, and politics. But together—and through the long lens of history—they represent something far more revealing: the modern expression of a centuries-old system in which elite institutions protect powerful men while sacrificing the vulnerable.

The Epstein-Dershowitz-Summers triangle is not a scandal of individuals gone astray. It is the predictable result of structures that make such abuses almost inevitable.

The Modern Version of an Old System

Jeffrey Epstein built his influence not through scholarship or scientific discovery—he had no advanced degrees—but by inserting himself into the financial bloodstream of the Ivy League. Harvard and MIT accepted his money, his introductions, and his promises of access to ultra-wealthy networks. Epstein did not need credibility; he purchased it.

Larry Summers, as president of Harvard from 2001 to 2006, continued to engage with Epstein after the financier’s first arrest and plea deal. Summers’ administration accepted substantial Epstein donations, including funds channeled into the Program for Evolutionary Dynamics. Summers and his wife dined at Epstein’s Manhattan home. After leaving Harvard, Summers stayed in touch with Epstein even as the financier’s abuses became increasingly public. Summers used the same revolving door that has long connected elite universities, Wall Street, and presidential administrations—moving freely and comfortably across all three.

Alan Dershowitz, former Harvard Law Professor and Epstein’s close associate and legal strategist, exemplifies another pillar of this system: elite legal protection. Dershowitz defended Epstein vigorously, attacked survivors publicly, and remains embroiled in litigation connected to the case. Whether one believes Dershowitz’s claims of innocence is secondary to the structural fact: elite institutions reliably shield their own.

Together, Epstein offered money and connections; Summers offered institutional prestige and political access; Dershowitz offered legal insulation. Harvard, meanwhile, offered a platform through which all three profited.

Knowledge as a Shield—Not a Light

For centuries, elite universities have served as both engines of knowledge and fortresses of power. They are not neutral institutions.

They defended slavery and eugenics, supplying “scientific” justification for racial hierarchies.
They exploited labor—from enslaved workers who built campuses to adjuncts living in poverty today.
They marginalized survivors of sexual violence while protecting benefactors and faculty.
They accepted fortunes derived from war profiteering, colonial extraction, hedge-fund predation, and private-equity devastation.

Epstein did not invent the model of the toxic patron. He merely perfected it in the neoliberal era.

A Four-Step Pattern of Elite Impunity

The scandal surrounding Epstein, Dershowitz, and Summers follows a trajectory that dates back centuries:

  1. Wealth accumulation through exploitation
    From slave plantations to private equity, concentrated wealth is generated through systems that harm the many to benefit the few.

  2. The purchase of academic legitimacy
    Endowed chairs, laboratories, fellowships, and advisory roles allow dubious benefactors to launder reputations through universities.

  3. Legal and cultural shielding
    Elite lawyers, confidential settlements, non-disclosure agreements, and institutional silence create protective armor.

  4. Silencing of survivors and critics
    Reputational attacks, threats of litigation, and internal pressure discourage transparency and accountability.

Epstein operated within this system. Dershowitz defended it. Summers benefited from it. Harvard reinforced it.

Larry Summers: An Anatomy of Power

Summers’ career illuminates the deeper structure behind the scandal. His trajectory—Harvard president, U.S. Treasury Secretary, World Bank chief economist, adviser to hedge funds, consultant to Big Tech—mirrors the seamless circulation of elite power between universities, finance, and government.

During his presidency, Harvard publicly embraced Epstein’s donations. After Epstein’s first sex-offense conviction, Summers continued to meet with him socially and professionally. Summers leveraged networks that Epstein also sought to cultivate. And even after the Epstein scandal fully broke open, Summers faced no meaningful institutional repercussions.

The message was clear: individual wrongdoing matters less than maintaining elite continuity.


Higher Education’s Structural Complicity

Elite universities were not “duped.” They were beneficiaries.

Harvard returned only a fraction of Epstein’s donations, and only after the press exposed the relationship. MIT hid Epstein’s gifts behind false donor names. Faculty traveled to his island and penthouse without demanding transparency.

Meanwhile:

Adjuncts qualify for food assistance
Students carry life-crippling debt
Administrators earn CEO-level pay
Donors dictate priorities behind closed doors

This is not hypocrisy—it is hierarchy. A system built to serve wealth does exactly that.

A Timeline Much Longer Than Epstein

To understand the present, we must zoom out:

Oxford and Cambridge accepted slave-trade wealth as institutional lifeblood.
Gilded Age robber barons endowed libraries while crushing labor movements.
Cold War intelligence agencies quietly funded research centers.
Today’s oligarchs, tech billionaires, and private-equity titans buy influence through endowments and think tanks.

The tools change. The pattern does not.

Universities help legitimate the powerful—even when those powerful figures harm the public.

Why This Still Matters

The Epstein scandal is not resolved. Court documents continue to emerge. Survivors continue to speak. Elite institutions continue to stall and deflect. Harvard still resists meaningful transparency, even as its endowment approaches national GDP levels.

The danger is not simply that another Epstein will emerge. It is that elite universities will continue to provide the conditions that make another Epstein inevitable.

What Breaking the Pattern Requires

Ending this system demands more than symbolic gestures or public-relations apologies. Real reform requires:

Radical donor transparency—with all gifts, advisory roles, and meetings disclosed
Worker and student representation on governing boards
Strong whistleblower protections and the abolition of secret NDAs
Robust public funding to reduce reliance on elite philanthropy
Independent journalism committed to exposing institutional power

Ida B. Wells, Jessica Mitford, Upton Sinclair, and other muckrakers understood what universities still deny: scandals are symptoms. The disease is structural.

Epstein was not an anomaly.
Dershowitz is not an anomaly.
Summers is not an anomaly.

They are products of a system in which universities serve power first—and truth, only if convenient.

If higher education wants to reclaim public trust, it must finally decide which side of history it is on.

Saturday, November 15, 2025

Finally Learned My Limits (Heidi Weber)

[Editors note: "No Stop" Heidi Weber has been a hero of ours for several years. Her courage fighting corruption at Globe University was documented on an episode of CBS Whistleblower.]

First, I would like to thank Dahn, and all the other truth tellers who work tirelessly every day and sacrifice so much to elevate truth. Without them, any whistleblower efforts would not have half the positive impact that they do.












For years, I really struggled with the title of whistleblower. I thought if I could distance myself from it, all the resulting traumas would just disappear, and life would be “normal” again.

However, I underestimated how much a landmark whistleblower case, especially in higher education, would affect and continually haunt me. I'm glad now, that it did, because it forced me to see how much of an impact it has had on an entire for-profit sector. I learned it's ok to allow myself to feel a sense of pride. After all, it was the most painful, stressful thing I imagined I'd ever go through.

Unfortunately, life didn't get that memo and still had lessons for me about the depth of pain adversity, and struggle, in ways that I never imagined.

In the middle of the pandemic, my husband’s sudden unexpected stroke forced us into a reality we weren’t prepared for. Overnight, I became his nurse, advocate, cheerleader, and his sole rehabilitation task master, simultaneously trying to maintain and hold our home together and make ends meet.

At the same time, our once close, beautiful, adult daughters estranged from us without explanation, treating us as if we do not exist, and are of no value to them... *

All I knew, was that it resulted in leaving a pain and heartache so profound that has reshaped the way I understand love, loss, and resilience.

In the midst of these personal storms, I rediscovered a purpose in educating and helping others as an advocate. So, I added two post graduate certificates and learned how to support and even the field for families who feel powerless in a biased system financially incentivized to separate families and little accountability or oversight.

Injustice and unfairness still stir a fire in me, just as it had when I made that fateful decision to become a whistleblower, and it still inspires me to be relentless in seeking truth and fairness.

Only now, I have the unique experience and knowledge to inspire/teach others.

Currently, I've been writing curricula and developing an online training program for a Certificate as a Justice Support Advocate. It focuses on some basic foundations of civics, (no longer taught in school), finding your own resilience and purpose, the various types of advocates, incorporating it into your personal and professional life, and protecting yourself and the public at the same time.

My wish is for learners to find their own fire and realize that courage is easier found when you are fighting for what you know is true and just for everyone, no matter what that is.

I've also been doing family advocacy consulting work, as an affordable option for parents, alone or as a partner to their attorney to provide non legal support, evaluation, investigation, and provide fair, logical solutions:

1. For parents facing or concerned about unethical practices in the Child Protective Services (CPS) system to audit, teach and ensure that parents are being portrayed truthfully with reasonable realistic goals to reunite the family, if indicated.

2. In high conflict custody, providing evaluation and screening for signs of parental alienation, and support, education, and resources (to both parents) on how to navigate being a divorced family, as well as providing recommendations to the Court (if indicated) centered around the best interests of the child and importance of both parents to healthy development.

If you would like to discuss either of those services or more info on the advocacy certificate course, please contact me at nostopheidi@gmail.com. I'm shooting for February or March 2026 to have the website, and course available online.

These years have been painful, transformative, and defining, but with pain comes growth and wisdom. Life still had more lessons…. to show me there is no limit to how much I can carry and keep positively moving forward.

*Adult children from “normal” average parents have become an almost celebrated (unhealthy) trend over the last ten years especially, for many adult children who have been influenced, poisoned, or alienated against one or both parents by undertrained therapists, peers, and social media influencers, allowing avoidance of responsibility, self-discipline, or concern for others.

Thursday, November 13, 2025

The College Meltdown Index: Profiting from the Wreckage of American Higher Education


“Education, once defended as a public good, now functions as a vehicle for private gain.”


From Collapse to Contagion

The College Meltdown never truly ended—it evolved.

After a decade of spectacular for-profit implosions, the higher education sector has reconstituted itself around new instruments of profit: debt servicing, edtech speculation, and corporate “partnerships” that disguise privatization as innovation.

The College Meltdown Index—tracking a mix of education providers, servicers, and learning platforms—reveals a sector in quiet decay.

Legacy for-profits like National American University (NAUH) and Aspen Group (ASPU) trade at penny-stock levels, while Lincoln Educational (LINC) and Perdoceo (PRDO) stumble through cost-cutting cycles.

Even the supposed disruptors—Chegg (CHGG), Udemy (UDMY), and Coursera (COUR)—are faltering as user growth plateaus and AI reshapes their value proposition.

Meanwhile, SoFi (SOFI), Sallie Mae (SLM), and Maximus (MMS) thrive—not through learning, but through the management of debt.


The Meltdown Graveyard

Below lies a sampling of the education sector’s ghost tickers—the silent casualties of a system that turned public trust into private loss.

SymbolInstitutionStatusApprox. Closure/Delisting
CLAS.UClass TechnologiesDefunct2024
INSTInstructure (pre-acquisition)Acquired by Thoma Bravo2020
TWOUQ2U, Inc.Bankrupt2025
CPLACapella UniversityMerged with Strayer (Strategic Ed.)2018
ESI-OLDITT Technical InstituteDefunct2016
EDMCEducation Management CorporationDefunct2018
COCO-OLDCorinthian CollegesDefunct2015
APOLApollo Education Group (U. of Phoenix)Taken Private2017

Each ticker represents not only a failed business model—but a generation of indebted students.


The Phoenix That Shouldn’t Have Risen

No institution better symbolizes this moral decay than the University of Phoenix and Phoenix Education Partners (PXED).

At its height, Phoenix enrolled nearly half a million students. By 2017, following federal investigations and mass defaults, Apollo Education Group—its parent company—collapsed under scrutiny.

But rather than disappearing, Phoenix was quietly resurrected through a private equity buyout led by Apollo Global Management, Vistria Group, and Najafi Companies.

Freed from public oversight, the university continued to enroll vulnerable adult learners, harvesting federal aid while shedding accountability.

In 2023, the University of Idaho’s proposed acquisition of Phoenix provoked national outrage, forcing state officials to confront a basic question: Should a public university absorb a for-profit brand built on exploitation?

The deal collapsed—but the temptation to monetize Phoenix’s infrastructure remains. In 2025, a small portion became publicly traded.  Its call centers and online systems remain models of enrollment efficiency, designed to extract just enough engagement to secure tuition payments.


From Education to Extraction

The sector’s transformation reveals a deeper moral hazard.

If students succeed, investors profit.
If students fail, federal subsidies and servicer contracts ensure the money keeps flowing.

Executives face no downside. Shareholders are protected. The losses fall on students and taxpayers.

In this sense, the “meltdown” is not a market failure—it’s a market design.

“The winners are those who most efficiently extract value from hope.”

Public universities increasingly partner with private Online Program Managers (OPMs), leasing their brands to companies that control marketing, pricing, and student data. The once-clear line between public and for-profit education has blurred beyond recognition.


The Quiet Winners of Collapse

A few companies continue to prosper by aligning with “practical” or “mission-safe” sectors:

  • Adtalem (ATGE) in nursing and health education,

  • Grand Canyon Education (LOPE) in faith-branded online degrees,

  • Bright Horizons (BFAM) in corporate childcare and workforce training.

Yet all remain heavily dependent on public dollars and tax incentives. The state subsidizes their existence; the market collects the rewards.

Meanwhile, 2U’s bankruptcy leaves elite universities scrambling to explain how a publicly traded OPM, once championed as the future of online learning, could disintegrate overnight—taking with it a network of high-priced “nonprofit” certificate programs.


A Reckoning Deferred

The College Meltdown Index exposes a system that has internalized its own failures.
Fraud has been replaced by financial engineering, transparency by outsourcing, and accountability by spin.

The real collapse is not in the market—but in moral logic. Education, once the cornerstone of social mobility, has become a speculative instrument traded between hedge funds and holding companies.

Until policymakers—and universities themselves—confront the ethics of profit in higher education, the meltdown will persist, slowly consuming what remains of the public good.


“The real question is not whether the system will collapse, but who will rebuild it—and for whom.”


Sources:

  • Higher Education Inquirer, College Meltdown 2.0 Index (Nov. 2025)

  • SEC Filings (2010–2025)

  • U.S. Department of Education, Heightened Cash Monitoring Reports

  • An American Sickness – Elisabeth Rosenthal

  • The Goosestep – Upton Sinclair

  • Medical Apartheid – Harriet A. Washington

  • Body and Soul – Alondra Nelson

  • The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks – Rebecca Skloot

Tuesday, November 11, 2025

Divestment from Predatory Education Stocks: A Moral Imperative

Calls for divestment from exploitative industries have long been part of movements for social and economic justice—whether opposing apartheid, fossil fuels, or private prisons. Today, another sector demands moral scrutiny: the network of for-profit education corporations and student loan servicers that have turned higher learning into a site of mass indebtedness and despair. From predatory colleges to the companies that profit from collecting on student debt, the system functions as a pipeline of extraction. For those who believe education should serve the public good, the issue is not merely financial—it is moral.

The Human Cost of Predatory Education

For decades, for-profit college chains such as Corinthian Colleges, ITT Tech, the University of Phoenix, DeVry, and Capella targeted low-income students, veterans, single parents, and people of color with high-pressure marketing and promises of career advancement. These institutions, funded primarily through federal student aid, often charged premium tuition for substandard programs that left graduates worse off than when they began.

When Corinthian and ITT Tech collapsed, they left hundreds of thousands of students with worthless credits and mountains of debt. But the collapse did not end the exploitation—it simply shifted it. The business model has re-emerged in online form through education technology and “online program management” (OPM) firms such as 2U, Coursera, and Academic Partnerships. These firms, in partnership with elite universities like Harvard, Yale, and USC, replicate the same dynamics of inflated costs, opaque contracts, and limited accountability.

The Servicing of Debt as a Business Model

Beyond the schools themselves, student loan servicers and collectors—Maximus, Sallie Mae, and Navient among them—have built immense profits from managing and pursuing student debt. Sallie Mae, once a government-sponsored enterprise, was privatized in the 2000s and evolved into a powerful lender and loan securitizer. Navient, its spinoff, became notorious for deceptive practices and aggressive collections that trapped borrowers in cycles of delinquency.

Maximus, a major federal contractor, now services defaulted student loans on behalf of the U.S. Department of Education. These companies profit directly from the misery of borrowers—many of whom are victims of predatory schools or structural inequality. Their incentive is not to liberate students from debt, but to sustain and expand it.

The Role of Institutional Investors

The complicity of institutional investors cannot be ignored. Pension funds, endowments, and major asset managers have consistently financed both for-profit colleges and loan servicers, even after repeated scandals and lawsuits. Public sector pension funds—ironically funded by educators—have held stock in Navient, Maximus, and large for-profit college operators. Endowments that pride themselves on ethical or ESG investing have too often overlooked education profiteering.

Investment firms like BlackRock, Vanguard, and State Street collectively hold billions of dollars in these companies, stabilizing an industry that thrives on the financial vulnerability of students. To profit from predatory education is to participate, however indirectly, in the commodification of aspiration.

Divestment as a Moral and Educational Act

Divesting from predatory education companies and loan servicers is not just an act of conscience—it is an educational statement in itself. It affirms that learning should be a vehicle for liberation, not a mechanism of debt servitude. When universities, pension boards, and faith-based investors divest from corporations like Maximus, Navient, and 2U, they are reclaiming education’s moral purpose.

The divestment movement offers a broader civic lesson: that profit and progress are not synonymous, and that investment must align with justice. Faith communities, student debt activists, and labor unions have made similar stands before—against apartheid, tobacco, and fossil fuels. The same principle applies here. An enterprise that depends on deception, coercion, and financial harm has no place in a socially responsible portfolio.

A Call to Action

Transparency is essential. Pension boards, university endowments, and foundations must disclose their holdings in for-profit education and student loan servicing companies. Independent investigations should assess the human consequences of these investments, particularly their disproportionate impact on women, veterans, and people of color.

The next step is moral divestment. Educational institutions, public pension systems, and religious organizations should commit to withdrawing investments from predatory education stocks and debt servicers. Funds should be redirected to debt relief, community college programs, and initiatives that restore trust in education as a public good.

The corporate education complex—spanning recruitment, instruction, lending, and collection—has monetized both hope and hardship. The time has come to sever public and institutional complicity in this cycle. Education should empower, not impoverish. Divestment is not merely symbolic—it is a declaration of values, a demand for accountability, and a reaffirmation of education’s original promise: to serve humanity rather than exploit it.


Sources:

  • U.S. Department of Education, Borrower Defense to Repayment Reports

  • Senate HELP Committee, For Profit Higher Education: The Failure to Safeguard the Federal Investment and Ensure Student Success (2012)

  • Consumer Financial Protection Bureau (CFPB) enforcement actions against Navient and Sallie Mae

  • The Century Foundation, Online Program Managers and the Public Interest

  • Student Borrower Protection Center, Profiting from Pain: The Financialization of the Student Debt Crisis

  • Higher Education Inquirer archives

Monday, November 10, 2025

Muckraking and the Modern University

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


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

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

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


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

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


Upton Sinclair and The Goosestep (1923)

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


Jessica Mitford and Corporate Exploitation (1960s)

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


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

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

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


The Chilling Effect of Legal Retaliation

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

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


The Enduring Importance of Muckraking

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

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


Reclaiming the Public Good (If That's Possible) 

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


Sources

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

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

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

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

  • Harriet A. Washington, Medical Apartheid (2006)

  • Elisabeth Rosenthal, An American Sickness (2017)

  • Higher Education Inquirer archives, 2014–2025

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

Friday, November 7, 2025

South University Faces $35.4 Million Balloon Payment Amid Limited Oversight

[Editor's note: On October 29, 2025, the Higher Education Inquirer emailed South University for a status update. South University did not respond. On November 1, 2025, Benjamin DeGweck replaced Steven Yoho as CEO and Chancellor.]

South University, a former for-profit college network now operating under nonprofit ownership, is facing a $35 million balloon payment this month on a loan obtained through the Federal Reserve’s Main Street Lending Program. The looming debt and the school’s status on Heightened Cash Monitoring (HCM) raise questions about financial stability and the adequacy of regulatory oversight in the nonprofit higher education sector.


A Heavy Loan Load

According to publicly available financial statements, South University carries more than $35 million in long-term debt maturing this month, part of a $50 million Main Street loan issued during the COVID-19 pandemic. The approaching balloon payment represents a major financial test for an institution already under federal scrutiny and struggling with declining enrollment.


Heightened Cash Monitoring—But Limited Oversight

South University is currently listed under Heightened Cash Monitoring (HCM) by the U.S. Department of Education, a status that requires extra documentation before federal aid funds are released. While the designation signals potential financial or compliance issues, it does not necessarily result in strong day-to-day oversight.

The school remains accredited by the Southern Association of Colleges and Schools Commission on Colleges (SACSCOC)—an accreditor known for minimal intervention in institutional finances unless there is clear evidence of collapse. This means that despite the HCM flag, South University continues to operate with significant autonomy, even as federal and student aid dollars flow through additional administrative checks.


A Complicated Legacy

South University’s story is deeply tied to the rise and fall of the for-profit college industry. Once part of Education Management Corporation (EDMC), the school was sold in 2017 to the ill-fated Dream Center Education Holdings (DCEH). When DCEH collapsed in 2019, the Education Principle Foundation (EPF)—a nonprofit—took over South University and The Art Institutes. South University is now an independent non-profit enterprise.  


A Pattern of Fragile Conversions

South University’s precarious position reflects a larger trend: the conversion of failing for-profit schools into nominal nonprofits that rely on tuition, federal aid, and private service contracts to survive. These conversions often preserve the same management structures and business practices while benefiting from the public trust and tax advantages of nonprofit status.

The $35 million balloon payment highlights the risks of these financial engineering strategies—especially when public money is involved but public accountability is weak.


What Comes Next

With the 2025 deadline approaching, South University faces a pivotal decision: refinance the Main Street loan, restructure operations, or seek new capital through other partners.

If the institution falters, students could once again be caught in the aftermath of a sector-wide collapse—echoing the failures of EDMC, DCEH, and the Art Institutes.

For now, South University continues to operate with limited transparency, under a light-touch accreditor, and with a multimillion-dollar federal debt hanging over its future.


Sources:

Wednesday, November 5, 2025

University of Phoenix’s “TransferPath” App: Convenience or Marketing Hype?

The University of Phoenix has launched TransferPath, a mobile app promising prospective students a quick estimate of how many previous college credits might transfer toward a Phoenix degree. At first glance, it sounds like a win: upload your transcripts, get a pre-evaluation, and move faster toward completing your degree. The EdTech Innovation Hub article covering the launch presents the app as an unambiguously positive innovation—but a closer look raises serious questions.

The EdTech piece reads more like a press release than investigative reporting. It offers no insight into how pre-evaluations are calculated, whether faculty are involved, or how often initial predictions align with final credit acceptance. Without this transparency, students risk developing false confidence and making financial or academic decisions based on incomplete or misleading information.

The app also reflects the asymmetry of power between institution and student. While marketed as a convenience, it is ultimately a recruitment tool. The University of Phoenix controls which credits are accepted, and the app’s messaging may funnel students into its programs regardless of whether other paths would better serve their educational goals.

Missing from the coverage is context. Phoenix’s history as a for-profit institution has drawn scrutiny over retention rates, student debt, and degree outcomes. Presenting TransferPath without acknowledging this background creates a misleading narrative that the app is purely a student-centered innovation. Equity concerns are similarly absent. Students without smartphones, stable internet, or digital literacy may be excluded or misled. There is no evidence that the app serves all students fairly or that its credit predictions are accurate across diverse educational backgrounds.

TransferPath may indeed offer some convenience, but convenience alone does not equal value. Prospective students deserve clarity, honesty, and rigorous evaluation of how tools like this actually function. They need more than marketing optimism—they need realistic guidance to navigate the complexities of credit transfer, institutional incentives, and long-term outcomes.

Until such transparency and accountability are provided, TransferPath risks being more of a recruitment gimmick than a meaningful step forward in higher education.

Sunday, November 2, 2025

When Educators Back the Cheating Platform: The Strange Case of Chegg (Glen McGhee)

Chegg — once a poster child for pandemic-era edtech growth — is now in free fall. In 2025 the company announced it would slash 45 % of its workforce, citing plunging web traffic, collapsing revenue, and the onslaught of AI tools that let students bypass paid homework help altogether.

It’s a dramatic reversal for a company that sold itself as a learning aid. But behind that collapse lies an even more troubling paradox: many teacher pension funds and public retirement systems — in whose names educators put decades of trust — hold millions in Chegg stock. Why would those funds invest in a company whose business model many of their own beneficiaries see as unethical, even corrosive?

We’ve seen this pattern before. In the early 2000s, retirement funds like these were major institutional investors in for-profit higher education companies such as EDMC, ITT Tech, and the University of Phoenix. Those institutions promised strong returns but ultimately collapsed under fraud allegations, predatory practices, and declining enrollments. Many public-sector workers indirectly suffered as the funds lost money. Chegg’s story looks eerily similar: high growth promises, an ethically contested business model, and exposure of public retirement funds to extreme financial risk. The repetition suggests a structural pattern: when education is financialized and commodified, the people meant to serve it — educators and students — are exposed to both moral and economic hazards.


The Downward Spiral: Why Chegg Is Crashing

Chegg’s decline didn’t begin yesterday. It was seeded by technological disruption and a fragile business model dependent on volume, content access, and student compliance. Generative AI tools such as ChatGPT and Bard have undercut Chegg’s core service: paid homework help and explanations. Students can often get free answers faster and more flexibly. Google’s “AI overviews,” which display answer snippets directly in search results, divert traffic away from Chegg’s site, reducing ad and subscription conversions. Chegg has even sued Google, alleging unfair competition.

Earlier in 2025, Chegg laid off 22 % of its staff and closed its U.S. and Canada offices to cut costs. That was supposed to be a stabilization move, but it foreshadowed deeper troubles. The more recent 45 % layoff is sweeping: 388 jobs are being cut, $15–19 million in severance charges are expected, and $100–110 million in cost savings are projected for 2026. Chegg’s stock has lost approximately 99 % of its value since its 2021 peak. Yet the company is still pursuing a pivot toward B2B “skilling” markets, though skeptics doubt whether this can make up for the erosion of its original model. In short, Chegg is facing structural obsolescence. The ecosystem that once made its growth plausible is collapsing around it.


Pension Funds and the Strange Attraction to Chegg

Several public pension and teachers’ retirement systems hold millions in Chegg: Kentucky Teachers’ Retirement System owns $4.5 million, California State Teachers’ Retirement System owns $4 million, New York State Common Retirement Fund owns $13 million, Colorado Public Employees’ Retirement Fund owns $9.3 million, California Public Employees’ Retirement Fund owns $5.3 million, a Florida retirement fund owns $3.3 million, Ohio Public Employees Retirement owns $1.5 million, and the Teacher Retirement System of Texas owns $630,000.

These investments raise hard questions. Do pension fund managers assume Chegg will survive its technological disruption? Are they prioritizing short-term returns over long-term reputational or ethical risk? Do they believe the stock is undervalued and thus a “contrarian bet”? Are they following passive index allocations rather than making deliberate choices? Some fund managers defend such investments as fulfilling fiduciary duty: to maximize returns for their beneficiaries within acceptable risk parameters. Ethical considerations, they argue, should not trump financial sustainability — especially in a system underfunded and under stress. But when the bet fails, the consequences fall hardest on retirees, educators, and the public who trusted those funds to safeguard their futures.


Do We Owe Them Sympathy?

It’s tempting to feel a bit sorry: pension funds losing money is a headline nobody wants. But sympathy is complicated. These funds store and grow the life savings of public-sector workers — teachers, librarians, and staff. A poorly timed speculative investment can damage retiree security and erode public trust. On the other hand, this is no innocent failure; it is a foreseeable risk in backing a business facing existential challenges. It reflects a broader pattern of financialization in education: turning learning into a profit-seeking venture, exposing it to wild swings, and treating educators and students as market participants. Losses are regrettable, especially at the human level, but they also demand accountability. Institutions must explain why they placed trust in Chegg when its vulnerabilities were visible.


What This Reveals: Institutional Contradiction

This episode exposes several deeper contradictions at the intersection of education, finance, and values. Many educators see Chegg as a threat to academic integrity, yet the institutions managing their retirement funds believed in its upside. Some investors are attracted to the “turnaround bet,” seeing potential in a company trading at a fraction of its former value, though the risk is very high. Some funds may hold Chegg because their portfolios track broad indices, ceding moral discretion to the market. Education has become infrastructure built on venture logic, and the Chegg collapse is a warning: when learning becomes a commodity, its institutions become as unstable as any tech startup. Finally, if pension funds backed a cheating-enabled platform, what else might their capital support, and how does that affect trust in those institutions?


A Moral and Institutional Reckoning 

Chegg’s collapse is not just a market drama; it’s a moral and institutional reckoning. A company built on a questionable model is now evaporating under AI pressure. Meanwhile, public pension funds — meant to safeguard the futures of educators — placed bets on that very evaporation.

We might feel a pang of sympathy for the financial losses. But our greater duty is to probe the judgment of those entrusted with public capital, and to demand coherence between values and investment. If the administrators of teacher retirement funds cannot align ethics with asset allocation, then their claims to serving the public good are weakened — and so is the trust on which the idea of public education depends.


Sources

Barron’s: “Chegg Is Suing Google. The Stock Is Sinking.”
Reuters: “Chegg to lay off 22% of workforce as AI tools shake up edtech industry.”
SF Chronicle: “Bay Area educational tech company slashes 248 jobs as students turn to AI tools for learning.”
The Cheatsheet Substack: “Meet Chegg’s Biggest Backers.”
The Chronicle of Higher Education: “Work in Public Education and Hate Chegg? You Might Be an Investor.”
Wikipedia: “Chegg”

Wednesday, October 29, 2025

BORROWERS AGAINST APOLLO EVENT, FRIDAY NOVEMBER 7TH, NEW YORK CITY (HELU, AAUP, AFT)

[Editor's Note: Readers can sign up for the event at BORROWERS AGAINST APOLLO.  Ensure that you click on "Switch account" to submit the form from your Google account.]



BORROWERS AGAINST APOLLO
Higher Ed Unions, Student Unions, and For-Profit College Borrowers Unite Against Trump’s “Higher Education Compact”


Several higher education unions, student unions, and former students of for-profit colleges are organizing in opposition to the Trump administration’s proposed “higher education compact”—a plan heavily shaped and promoted by private-equity billionaire Marc Rowan.

Rowan, the CEO of Apollo Global Management, has played a central role in advancing this proposal. Apollo owns several predatory for-profit institutions, including the University of Phoenix, one of the most notorious offenders in the industry.

In a recent New York Times op-ed, Rowan took public credit for the compact, writing:

“The evidence is overwhelming: outrageous costs and prolonged indebtedness for students; poor outcomes, with too many students left unable to find meaningful work after graduating…”

Yet, under Rowan’s leadership, the University of Phoenix has become the largest source of Borrower Defense claims of any for-profit school, with more than 100,000 pending applications as of July 2025. Borrower Defense is a federal protection that allows students to seek loan forgiveness if their school misled them or violated state or federal law.

The University of Phoenix has faced multiple law enforcement investigations for deceptive recruiting tactics that targeted veterans, service members, and working adults nationwide. The school’s misconduct led to a $191 million settlement with the Federal Trade Commission for falsely claiming partnerships with major employers. More recently, the university attempted to portray itself as a public institution while seeking to sell to two states—both of which ultimately rejected the deal after public backlash.

While Rowan’s personal fortune exceeds $7 billion, borrowers continue to shoulder crushing debt from degrees that delivered little to no value. His leadership has fueled a system that profits from student harm—and now, through this compact, he is setting his sights on reshaping major public universities.

We refuse to stay silent. Borrowers, students, and educators are standing together to demand accountability and defend higher education from predatory perpetrators.

JOIN THE FIGHT AGAINST FOR-PROFIT COLLEGE GREED – NOVEMBER 7


The for-profit college industry has harmed countless students — and it’s time they hear directly from us. Join us outside Apollo Global Management Headquarters on Friday, November 7 at 11:00 a.m. to make your voice heard and demand accountability.

We’re calling on borrowers from for-profit schools who were misled or left in debt by this predatory system. Travel support may be available for anyone within train distance of New York City. We’ll provide shirts, posters, and everything you need to show up strong. (Apollo’s offices are about 20 minutes from Penn Station by subway.)

We’re also looking for University of Phoenix borrowers willing to speak publicly or to the press about their experiences. Additional travel assistance can be arranged for those coming from outside the NYC area.

If you’re ready to share your story and take a stand, reach out today. Together, we can show Apollo — and the entire for-profit college industry — that borrowers are not backing down.

CAN’T MAKE IT BUT WANT TO GET INVOLVED?
We’re always looking to connect with borrowers and allies. There are many ways to take part in this fight — from sharing your story and supporting organizing efforts to helping spread the word. Reach out to learn how you can get involved and join the movement for justice in higher education.

Monday, October 27, 2025

The College Meltdown: A Retrospective

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

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


Origins

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

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


Patterns of the Meltdown

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

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

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


Feeding the AI Beast

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

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


Anxiety, Anomie, and Alienation

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

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


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

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

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


Quality of Life and the Call for Rehumanization

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

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


FOIA Requests and Whistleblowers

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

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


Historical Sociology: Understanding the Systemic Collapse

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

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


Naming Bad Actors: Accountability and Reform

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

  • University Administrators: Prioritizing profit over pedagogy.

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

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

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


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

Existential Aspects of Climate Change

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

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


Mass Speculation and Financialization

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

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


Coverage of Protests and Nonviolent Resistance

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


Collaboration and Resistance

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

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


Lessons from the Meltdown

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

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

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


Looking Forward

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


Sources and References

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • Wayback Machine Archive of College Meltdown Blog: link