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Thursday, November 27, 2025

National Day of Mourning: Higher Education’s Long Reckoning With Indigenous Oppression

[Editor's note: United American Indians of New England host the National Day of Mourning. Their website is at United American Indians of New England - UAINE.]

Each November, while much of the United States celebrates Thanksgiving, Indigenous communities and their allies gather in Plymouth, Massachusetts, and across the country for the National Day of Mourning. It is a day that confronts the mythology of national innocence and replaces it with historical clarity. For Higher Education Inquirer, the significance of this day extends directly into the heart of American higher education—a system built, in no small part, on the expropriation of Indigenous land, the exploitation of Native Peoples, and the continued structural racism that shapes their educational opportunities today.

From the earliest colonial colleges to the flagship research institutions of the twenty-first century, U.S. higher education has never been separate from the project of settler colonialism. It has been one of its instruments.

Land, Wealth, and the Origins of the University

America’s oldest colleges—Harvard, Yale, William & Mary, Dartmouth—were founded within the colonial order that dispossessed Indigenous communities. While missionary language framed some of these institutions’ early purposes, they operated through an extractive logic: the seizure of land, the conversion of cultural worlds, and, eventually, the accumulation of immense academic wealth.

The Morrill Land-Grant Acts of 1862 and 1890 expanded this pattern on a national scale. Recent research documented by the “Land-Grab Universities” project shows that nearly eleven million acres of Indigenous land—taken through coercive treaties, forced removal, or outright theft—were funneled into endowments for public universities. Students today walk across campuses financed by displacements their own institutions have yet to fully acknowledge, let alone remedy.

Higher Education as an Arm of Assimilation

The United States also used education as a tool for forced assimilation. The Indian boarding school system, with the Carlisle Industrial School as its model, operated in partnership with federal officials, church agencies, and academic institutions. Native children were taken from their families, stripped of their languages, and subjected to relentless cultural destruction.

Universities contributed research, training, and personnel to this system, embedding the logic of “civilizing” Indigenous Peoples into the academy’s structure. That legacy endures in curricula that minimize Indigenous knowledge systems and in institutional cultures that prize Eurocentric epistemologies as default.

Scientific Racism, Anthropology, and the Theft of Ancestors

American universities played a central role in producing scientific racism. Anthropologists and medical researchers collected Indigenous remains, objects, and sacred items without consent. Museums and university labs became repositories for thousands of ancestors—often obtained through grave robberies, military campaigns, or opportunistic scholarship.

The 1990 Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) was designed to force institutions to return ancestors and cultural patrimony. Yet decades later, many universities are still out of compliance, delaying repatriation while continuing to benefit from the research collections they amassed through violence.

Contemporary Structural Racism in Higher Education

The oppression is not confined to history. Structural racism continues to constrain Native Peoples in higher education today.

Native students remain among the most underrepresented and under-supported groups on American campuses. Chronic underfunding of Tribal Colleges and Universities (TCUs) reflects a broader political disregard for Indigenous sovereignty and self-determination. Meanwhile, elite institutions recruit Native students for marketing purposes while failing to invest in retention, community support, or Indigenous faculty hiring.

Some universities have begun implementing land acknowledgments, but these symbolic gestures have little impact when institutions refuse to confront their material obligations: returning land, committing long-term funding to Indigenous programs, or restructuring governance to include tribal representatives.

What a Real Reckoning Would Require

A genuine response to the National Day of Mourning would require far more than statements of solidarity. It would involve confronting the ways American higher education continues to profit from dispossession and the ways Native students continue to bear disproportionate burdens—from tuition to cultural isolation to the racist violence that still occurs on and around campuses.

Real accountability would include:

• Full compliance with NAGPRA and expedited repatriation.
• Transparent reporting of land-grant wealth and the return or shared governance of those lands.
• Stable, meaningful funding for TCUs.
• Hiring, tenure, and research policies that center Indigenous scholarship and sovereignty.
• Long-term institutional commitments—financial, curricular, and political—to Indigenous communities.

These steps require institutions to shift from performative recognition to structural transformation.

A Day of Mourning—And a Call to Action

The National Day of Mourning is not merely a counter-holiday. It is a reminder that the United States was founded on violence against Native Peoples—and that its colleges and universities were not passive beneficiaries but active participants in that violence.

For higher education leaders, faculty, and students, the question is no longer whether these histories are real or whether they matter. They are documented. They are ongoing. They matter profoundly.

The real question is what institutions are willing to give up—land, power, wealth, or narrative control—to support Indigenous liberation.

On this National Day of Mourning, HEI honors the truth that Indigenous survival is an act of resistance, and Indigenous sovereignty is not a symbolic aspiration but an overdue demand. The future of higher education must move through that truth, not around it.

Sources
Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz, An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States.
The Land-Grab Universities Project (High Country News & Land-Grab Universities database).
David Treuer, The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee.
Margaret D. Jacobs, A Generation Removed: The Fostering and Adoption of Indigenous Children in the Postwar World.
NAGPRA regulations and compliance reports.

Wednesday, November 26, 2025

The Secret and Tragic World of Robert F. Kennedy Jr.

Robert F. Kennedy Jr. is a man whose name carries the weight of one of America’s most storied political dynasties. Environmentalist, activist, author, and political figure, he has long cultivated a public image of intelligence, idealism, and reform-minded zeal. Yet behind this public persona lies a deeply troubled personal history marked by tragedy, accusations of sexual misconduct, and disturbing claims of animal cruelty. With his rise to the position of Secretary of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) in 2025, the stakes of this hidden history have grown far beyond family drama—they now intersect with public health, national science policy, and the higher education ecosystem.

Personal Tragedy and Allegations

Mary Richardson Kennedy, RFK Jr.’s second wife, died by suicide in May 2012. She was found with antidepressants in her system but no alcohol. At the time, the couple was separated, embroiled in a bitter divorce. Later-revealed documents suggest that Mary Richardson described her husband as a “sexual deviant,” alleging prescription-drug abuse and psychological manipulation, including gaslighting. She claimed he secretly recorded more than 60 phone conversations and maintained diaries documenting extramarital relationships. What may have seemed private marital discord became serious allegations of betrayal, manipulation, and emotional trauma.

In 2024, Eliza Cooney, a former live-in babysitter for the Kennedy children, publicly accused Kennedy of sexually assaulting her in the late 1990s. She described multiple incidents, including groping in a pantry, appearing shirtless in her bedroom, and being asked to rub lotion on his back. Kennedy sent Cooney a text apologizing if he had made her feel uncomfortable, claiming he had no memory of the events. Publicly, he called the allegations “a lot of garbage,” framing them as part of a “rambunctious youth” while refusing to categorically deny the events. These allegations, alongside Mary Richardson’s claims, paint a portrait of private behavior in stark contrast to the public image Kennedy has long projected.

Claims of animal cruelty have also surfaced. A 2010 photograph published in media outlets shows Kennedy with what appears to be a charred animal carcass. While Kennedy claims it was a goat from a Patagonia camping trip, a veterinarian quoted in the press suggested it could be a dog. Fact-checkers cannot conclusively identify the animal, yet the image, whether misinterpreted or not, is troubling in the context of someone who has publicly championed environmental and public health causes.

Ascension to HHS and Early Decisions

In February 2025, Kennedy was sworn in as Secretary of HHS, instantly gaining authority over national health policy, agency staffing, and public health programs. His tenure has been marked by swift, controversial moves. Kennedy launched the “Make America Healthy Again” (MAHA) commission, aiming to address chronic disease and childhood illness, with a focus on prevention and environmental health. He has emphasized removing conflicts of interest from advisory committees, arguing that existing members often have ties to pharmaceutical companies.

Kennedy’s tenure has also included a sweeping reorganization of HHS, consolidating its 28 divisions into 15, centralizing administrative functions, and cutting staff from roughly 82,000 to 62,000 in pursuit of $1.8 billion in annual savings. He has defended these changes as necessary to streamline operations and focus on environmental toxicity, clean water, and healthy food, while critics warn they could weaken public health infrastructure and reduce oversight. Perhaps most controversially, Kennedy has moved to eliminate the long-standing practice of public comment on many HHS decisions. Other early actions have included removing expert members from CDC vaccine advisory committees and revising CDC guidance on autism and vaccines in ways aligned with Kennedy’s previously expressed views.

Higher Education and Kennedy’s Influence

Kennedy’s connection to higher education is both personal and institutional. He attended Harvard College, graduating in 1976 with a degree in American history and literature, and went on to earn a Juris Doctor from the University of Virginia School of Law in 1982. While he has no formal scientific or medical degree, his public role as HHS Secretary gives him authority over federal research funding, grants, and university partnerships.

Since taking office, Kennedy has influenced HHS grants to universities, particularly those focused on public health, environmental research, and childhood disease prevention. Reports indicate he has prioritized funding for schools conducting research aligned with his personal priorities, such as environmental toxicity, vaccine alternatives, and holistic health programs. Critics argue this approach risks politicizing federal funding, favoring institutions that align with his beliefs while disadvantaging traditional biomedical research programs. Some universities have reportedly altered research agendas to secure or maintain grants under Kennedy’s administration, raising concerns about academic independence.

Kennedy’s educational background, combined with his control over grants and research priorities, illustrates how personal ideology and public policy intersect with higher education. It underscores the stakes for universities, faculty, and students: research funding decisions now operate in a landscape influenced by a leader whose private life is controversial and whose professional philosophy challenges established scientific norms.

The Interplay of History, Power, and Trust

The combination of Kennedy’s personal controversies, his public health authority, and his influence on higher education presents a complex portrait of power, legacy, and trust. Allegations from Mary Richardson Kennedy and Eliza Cooney, along with the animal cruelty claims, raise questions about judgment, ethics, and personal responsibility. Now, those questions carry weight far beyond private circles—they intersect with national public health, scientific research, and the education of future professionals.

The public often sees only the polished exterior: speeches, causes, charisma. In Kennedy’s case, the hidden world includes tragic suicide, allegations of sexual misconduct, and disturbing claims regarding animals. These shadows, now coupled with sweeping policy authority and influence over universities, underscore the importance of scrutinizing both character and action. Leadership in public health and science funding is not solely about vision or ambition—it requires judgment, transparency, and accountability.

What Kennedy does next will not just define his legacy; it will shape the health, safety, and education of the country he now serves. For advocates of transparency, survivors of abuse, academic researchers, and public health professionals, watching closely is not optional—it is a civic imperative.


Sources

Vanity Fair. “RFK Jr.’s Family Doesn’t Want Him to Run. Even They May Not Know His Darkest Secrets.” 2024. https://www.vanityfair.com/news/story/robert-kennedy-jr-shocking-history

New York Post. “Mary Kennedy Accuses Ex-Husband RFK Jr. of Being 'Sexual Deviant' and 'Gaslighting' from Beyond the Grave.” 2025. https://nypost.com/2025/01/29/us-news/rfk-jrs-late-wife-accused-him-of-being-sexual-deviant-addict/

Reuters. “Woman Who Accused RFK Jr. of Sexual Assault Says He Apologized by Text.” 2024. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/woman-who-accused-rfk-jr-sexual-assault-says-he-apologized-by-text-2024-07-12/

Forbes. “RFK Jr. Calls Report Alleging He Sexually Assaulted His Children’s Nanny and Ate a Dog ‘A Lot of Garbage.’” 2024. https://www.forbes.com/sites/siladityaray/2024/07/03/rfk-jr-calls-report-alleging-he-sexually-assaulted-his-childrens-nanny-and-ate-a-dog-a-lot-of-garbage/

WRAL. “RFK Jr. Denies Eating a Dog While Sidestepping Sexual Assault Allegations in Vanity Fair Article.” 2024. https://www.wral.com/story/rfk-jr-denies-eating-a-dog-while-sidestepping-sexual-assault-allegations-in-vanity-fair-article/21508133/

AP News. “RFK Jr. Made Promises About Vaccines. Here's What He's Done as Health Secretary.” 2025. https://apnews.com/article/d1ad570053583d953f15ec3e566e426f

Reuters. “Kennedy Proposes Ending Public Comment on HHS Decisions.” 2025. https://www.reuters.com/business/healthcare-pharmaceuticals/kennedy-proposes-ending-public-comment-hhs-decisions-2025-02-28/

Time. “What to Know About RFK Jr. Removing All Experts From CDC Vaccine Advisory Committee.” 2025. https://time.com/7292553/rfk-jr-removes-cdc-vaccine-committee-experts/

HHS.gov. “Make America Healthy Again Commission Launch.” 2025. https://www.hhs.gov/press-room/eo-maha.html

Sunday, November 23, 2025

The Link Between Greed and Efficiency

In the mythology of American capitalism, “efficiency” is the magic word that justifies austerity for workers, rising tuition for students, and ever-expanding wealth for administrators, financiers, and institutional elites. It is framed as neutral, technocratic, and rational. In reality, efficiency in higher education has become inseparable from greed, functioning as a mask for extraction and consolidation.

Universities and their sprawling medical centers have become some of the largest landowners and employers in the cities they inhabit. As Devarian Baldwin has shown, these institutions operate as urban empires, expanding aggressively into surrounding neighborhoods, raising housing costs, displacing long-time residents, and reshaping cities to suit institutional priorities. University medical centers, nominally nonprofit, consolidate smaller hospitals, close services deemed unprofitable, and charge some of the highest healthcare prices in the nation. These operations are justified as efficiency or economic development, yet they often destabilize the communities they claim to serve.

Endowments, some exceeding fifty billion dollars at elite institutions, have become central to this dynamic. Managed like hedge funds, these pools of capital are heavily invested in private equity, venture capital, real estate, and derivatives. The financial logic of endowment management now shapes university priorities, shifting focus from public service and learning to capital accumulation, investor returns, and risk management. Efficiency is defined not by educational outcomes but by the growth of financial assets.

This culture of extraction has been amplified by decades of government austerity. Public funding for higher education has steadily declined since the 1980s, forcing institutions to behave like corporations. At the same time, the aging Baby Boomer generation is creating unprecedented financial pressures on Social Security, Medicare, and healthcare systems, leaving public coffers stretched thin and reinforcing a winner-take-all national mentality. In this environment, universities compete fiercely for students, research dollars, donors, and prestige, producing conditions ripe for exploitation.

Outsourcing has become a standard method to achieve “efficiency.” Universities frequently contract out food service, custodial work, IT, housing management, and security. Workers employed by these contractors often face lower wages, fewer benefits, and higher turnover, while administrators present these arrangements as cost-saving measures. Meanwhile, administrative layers within institutions continue to expand, creating a managerial class that oversees growth and strategy while teaching budgets shrink. As Marc Bousquet has argued, the corporate-style management model displaces faculty governance and treats students and staff as revenue streams rather than participants in a shared educational mission.

The adjunctification of the faculty exemplifies efficiency as exploitation. Contingent instructors now teach the majority of classes in American higher education, earning poverty-level wages without benefits while juggling multiple teaching sites. Institutions call this “flexibility” and “cost containment,” but in reality it transfers value from instruction to administrative overhead, athletics, real estate, and financial operations, all while reducing the quality of education and undermining academic continuity.

The rise of Online Program Managers, or OPMs, further illustrates the fusion of greed and efficiency. These companies design, manage, and market entire online degree programs, often taking forty to seventy percent of tuition revenue. While presented as efficiency partners, OPMs aggressively recruit students, inflate costs, and minimize academic oversight. Their business model mirrors the exploitative strategies of for-profit colleges, which pioneered high-cost, low-quality instruction combined with heavy marketing to capture federal loan dollars. The collapse of chains such as Corinthian, ITT, and EDMC left millions of borrowers with debt and no degree, yet the model persists inside nonprofit universities through OPMs and algorithm-driven online programs.

“Robocolleges” represent the latest evolution of this trend. AI-driven instruction, predictive analytics, automated grading, and digital tutoring promise unprecedented efficiency, but they often replace human educators, reduce pedagogical oversight, exploit student data, and prioritize enrollment growth over educational quality. Efficiency here serves the financial bottom line rather than the learning or well-being of students.

The result of these extractive practices is a national crisis of student debt, now exceeding one trillion dollars. Students borrow to cover skyrocketing tuition, outsourced services, underpaid instruction, and the costs of programs shaped by OPMs or automated platforms. Debt is not an accident of the system; it is the intended outcome, a mechanism for transferring public resources and student labor into private profit.

The broader social context intensifies the problem. Higher education exists in a winner-take-all, financialized society, where resources flow upward and the majority of people are told to compete harder, work longer, and borrow more. Universities have internalized this ideology, acting as both symbols and engines of extraction. Efficiency, under this paradigm, is defined not by the effectiveness of teaching or research but by the expansion of institutional power, wealth, and influence.

True efficiency would look very different. It would invest in educators rather than contractors, stabilize academic labor rather than exploit it, serve surrounding communities rather than displace them, expand learning opportunities rather than debt, and prioritize democratic governance over corporate-style hierarchy. Efficiency should measure how well institutions serve the public good, not how well they protect endowment returns, OPM profits, or administrative salaries.

Until such a redefinition occurs, efficiency will remain one of the most powerful tools of extraction in American higher education, a rhetorical justification for greed disguised as rational management.


Sources

Devarian Baldwin, In the Shadow of the Ivory Tower
Marc Bousquet, How the University Works
Tressie McMillan Cottom, Lower Ed
Christopher Newfield, The Great Mistake
Sara Goldrick-Rab, Paying the Price
Government reports on for-profit colleges, student debt, and OPMs
Research on higher education financialization, outsourcing, and austerity policies

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 4, 2025

When Was Higher Education Truly a Public Good? (Glen McGhee)

Like staring at the Sun too long, that brief window in time, when higher ed was a public good, has left a permanent hole for nostalgia to leak in, becoming a massive black hole for trillions of dollars, and a blind-spot for misguided national policies and scholars alike. 

The notion that American higher education was ever a true public good is largely a myth. From the colonial colleges to the neoliberal university of today, higher education has functioned primarily as a mechanism of class reproduction and elite consolidation—with one brief, historically anomalous exception during the Cold War.




Colonial Roots: Elite Reproduction in the New World (1636–1787)

The first American colleges—Harvard, William and Mary, Yale, Princeton, and a handful of others—were founded not for the benefit of the public, but to serve narrow elite interests. Their stated missions were to train Protestant clergy and prepare the sons of wealthy white families for leadership. They operated under monopoly charters and drew funding from landowners, merchants, and slave traders.

Elihu Yale, namesake of Yale University, derived wealth from his commercial ties to the East India Company and the slave trade. Harvard’s early trustees owned enslaved people. These institutions functioned as “old boys’ clubs,” perpetuating privilege rather than promoting equality. Their educational mission was to cultivate “gentlemen fit to govern,” not citizens of a democracy.


Private Enterprise in the Republic (1790–1860)

After independence, the number of colleges exploded—from 19 in 1790 to more than 800 by 1880—but not because of any commitment to the public good. Colleges became tools for two private interests: religious denominations seeking influence, and land speculators eager to raise property values.

Ministers often doubled as land dealers, founding small, parochial colleges to anchor towns and boost prices. State governments played a minimal role, providing funding only in times of crisis. The Supreme Court’s 1819 Dartmouth College decision enshrined institutional autonomy, shielding private colleges from state interference. Even state universities were created mainly out of interstate competition—every state needed its own to “keep up with its neighbors.”


Gilded Age and Progressive Era: Credential Capitalism (1880–1940)

By the late 19th century, industrial capitalism had transformed higher education into a private good—something purchased for individual advancement. As family farms and small businesses disappeared, college credentials became the ticket to white-collar respectability.

Sociologist Burton Bledstein called this the “culture of professionalism.” Families invested in degrees to secure middle-class futures for their children. By the 1920s, most students attended college not to seek enlightenment, but “to get ready for a particular job.”

Elite universities such as Harvard, Yale, and Princeton solidified their dominance through exclusive networks. C. Wright Mills later observed that America’s “power elite” circulated through these same institutions and their associated clubs. Pierre Bourdieu’s concept of cultural capital helps explain this continuity: elite universities convert inherited privilege into certified merit, preserving hierarchy under the guise of meritocracy.


The Morrill Acts: Public Promise, Private Gains (1862–1890)

The Morrill Act of 1862 established land-grant colleges to promote “practical education” in agriculture and engineering. While often cited as a triumph of public-minded policy, the act’s legacy is ambivalent.

Land-grant universities were built on land expropriated from Indigenous peoples—often without compensation—and the 1890 Morrill Act entrenched segregation by mandating separate institutions for Black Americans in the Jim Crow South. Even as these colleges expanded access for white working-class men, they simultaneously reinforced racial and economic hierarchies.


Cold War Universities: The Brief Public Good (1940–1970)

For roughly thirty years, during World War II and the Cold War, American universities functioned as genuine public goods—but only because national survival seemed to depend on them.

The GI Bill opened college to millions of veterans, stabilizing the economy and expanding the middle class. Massive federal investments in research transformed universities into engines of technological and scientific innovation. The university, for a moment, was understood as a public instrument for national progress.

Yet this golden age was marred by exclusion. Black veterans were often denied GI Bill benefits, particularly in the South, where discriminatory admissions and housing policies blocked their participation. The “military-industrial-academic complex” that emerged from wartime funding created a new elite network centered on research universities like MIT, Stanford, and Berkeley.


Neoliberal Regression: Education as a Private Commodity (1980–Present)

After 1970, the system reverted to its long-standing norm: higher education as a private good. The Cold War’s end, the tax revolt, and the rise of neoliberal ideology dismantled the postwar consensus.

Ronald Reagan led the charge—first as California governor, cutting higher education funding by 20%, then as president, slashing federal support. He argued that tuition should replace public subsidies, casting education as an individual investment rather than a social right.

Since 1980, state funding per student has fallen sharply while tuition at public universities has tripled. Students are now treated as “customers,” and universities as corporations—complete with branding departments, executive pay packages, and relentless tuition hikes.


The Circuit of Elite Network Capital

Today, the benefits of higher education flow through a closed circuit of power that links elite universities, corporations, government agencies, and wealthy families.

  1. Elite Universities consolidate wealth and prestige through research funding, patents, and endowments.

  2. Corporations recruit talent and license discoveries, feeding the same institutions that produce their executives.

  3. Government and Military Agencies are staffed by alumni of elite universities, reinforcing a revolving door of privilege.

  4. Elite Professions—law, medicine, finance, consulting—use degrees as gatekeeping mechanisms, driving credential inflation.

  5. Wealthy Families invest in elite education as a means of preserving status across generations.

What the public receives are only residual benefits—technologies and medical innovations that remain inaccessible without money or insurance.


Elite Network Capital, Not Public Good

The idea of higher education as a public good has always been more myth than reality. For most of American history, colleges and universities have functioned as institutions of elite reproduction, not engines of democratic uplift.

Only during the extraordinary conditions of the mid-20th century—when global war and ideological conflict made mass education a national imperative—did higher education briefly align with the public interest.

Today’s universities continue to speak the language of “public good,” but their actions reveal a different truth. They serve as factories of credentialism and as nodes in an elite network that translates privilege into prestige. What masquerades as a public good is, in practice, elite network capital—a system designed not to democratize opportunity, but to manage and legitimize inequality.


Sources:
Labaree (2017), Bledstein (1976), Bourdieu (1984, 1986), Mills (1956), Geiger (2015), Thelin (2019), and McGhee (2025).

Friday, September 26, 2025

The Grand Irony of Nursing Education and Burnout in U.S. Health Care

Nursing has long been romanticized as both a “calling” and a profession—an occupation where devotion to patients is assumed to be limitless. Nursing schools, hospitals, and media narratives often reinforce this ideal, framing the nurse as a tireless caregiver who sacrifices for the greater good. But behind the cultural image is a system that normalizes exhaustion, accepts overwork, and relies on the quiet suffering of an increasingly strained workforce.

The cultural expectation that nurses should sacrifice their own well-being has deep historical roots. Florence Nightingale’s legacy in the mid-19th century portrayed nursing as a noble vocation, tied as much to moral virtue as to medical skill. During World War I and World War II, nurses were celebrated as patriotic servants, enduring brutal conditions without complaint. By the late 20th century, popular culture reinforced the idea of the nurse as both saintly and stoic—expected to carry on through fatigue, trauma, and loss. This framing has carried into the 21st century. During the COVID-19 pandemic, nurses were lauded as “heroes” in speeches, advertisements, and nightly news coverage. But the rhetoric of heroism masked a harsher reality: nurses were sent into hospitals without adequate protective equipment, with overwhelming patient loads, and with little institutional support. The language of devotion was used as a shield against criticism, even as nurses themselves broke down from exhaustion.

The problem begins in nursing education. Students are taught the technical skills of patient care, but they are also socialized into a culture that emphasizes resilience, self-sacrifice, and “doing whatever it takes.” Clinical rotations often expose nursing students to chronic understaffing and unsafe patient loads, but instead of treating this as structural failure, students are told it is simply “the reality of nursing.” In effect, they are trained to adapt to dysfunction rather than challenge it.

Once in the workforce, the pressures intensify. Hospitals and clinics operate under tight staffing budgets, pushing nurses to manage far more patients than recommended. Shifts stretch from 12 to 16 hours, and mandatory overtime is not uncommon. Documentation demands, electronic medical record systems, and administrative oversight add layers of clerical work that take time away from direct patient care. The emotional toll of constantly navigating life-and-death decisions, combined with lack of rest, creates a perfect storm of burnout. The grand irony is that the profession celebrates devotion while neglecting the well-being of the devoted. Nurses are praised as “heroes” during crises, but when they ask for better staffing ratios, safer conditions, or mental health support, they are often dismissed as “not team players.” In non-unionized hospitals, the risks are magnified: nurses have little leverage to negotiate schedules, resist unsafe assignments, or push back against retaliation. Instead, they are expected to remain loyal, even as stress erodes their health and shortens their careers.

Recent years have shown that nurses are increasingly unwilling to accept this reality. In Oregon in 2025, nearly 5,000 unionized nurses, physicians, and midwives staged the largest health care worker strike in the state’s history, demanding higher wages, better staffing levels, and workload adjustments that reflect patient severity rather than just patient numbers. After six weeks, they secured a contract with substantial pay raises, penalty pay for missed breaks, and staffing reforms. In New Orleans, nurses at University Medical Center have launched repeated strikes as negotiations stall, citing unsafe staffing that puts both their health and their patients at risk. These actions are not isolated. In 2022, approximately 15,000 Minnesota nurses launched the largest private-sector nurses’ strike in U.S. history, and since 2020 the number of nurse strikes nationwide has more than tripled.

Alongside strikes, nurses are pushing for legislative solutions. At the federal level, the Nurse Staffing Standards for Hospital Patient Safety and Quality Care Act has been introduced, which would mandate minimum nurse-to-patient ratios and provide whistleblower protections. In New York, the Safe Staffing for Hospital Care Act seeks to set legally enforceable staffing levels and ban most mandatory overtime. Even California, long considered a leader in nurse staffing ratios, has faced crises in psychiatric hospitals so severe that Governor Gavin Newsom introduced emergency rules to address chronic understaffing linked to patient harm. Enforcement remains uneven, however. At Albany Medical Center in New York, chronic understaffing violations led to hundreds of thousands of dollars in fines, a reminder that without strong oversight, even well-crafted laws can be ignored.

The United States’ piecemeal and adversarial approach contrasts sharply with other countries. In Canada, provinces like British Columbia have legislated nurse-to-patient ratios similar to those in California, and in Quebec, unions won agreements that legally cap workloads for certain units. In the United Kingdom, the National Health Service has long recognized safe staffing as a matter of public accountability, and while austerity policies have strained the system, England, Wales, and Scotland all employ government-set nurse-to-patient standards to protect both patients and staff. Nordic countries go further, with Sweden and Norway integrating nurse well-being into health policy; short shifts, strong union protections, and publicly funded healthcare systems reduce the risk of burnout by design. While no system is perfect, these models show that burnout is not inevitable—it is a political and policy choice.

Union presence consistently makes a difference. Studies show that unionized nurses are more successful at securing safe staffing ratios, resisting exploitative scheduling, and advocating for patient safety. But unionization rates in nursing remain uneven, and in many states nurses are discouraged or even legally restricted from organizing. Without collective power, individual nurses are forced to rely on personal endurance, which is precisely what the system counts on.

The outcome is devastating not only for nurses but for patients. Burnout leads to higher turnover, staffing shortages, and medical errors—all while nursing schools continue to churn out new graduates to replace those driven from the profession. It is a cycle sustained by institutional denial and the myth of infinite devotion.

If U.S. higher education is serious about preparing nurses for the future, nursing programs must move beyond the rhetoric of sacrifice. They need to teach students not only how to care for patients but also how to advocate for themselves and their colleagues. They need to expose the structural causes of burnout and prepare nurses to demand better conditions, not simply endure them. Until then, the irony remains: a profession that celebrates care while sacrificing its caregivers.


Sources

  • American Nurses Association (ANA). “Workplace Stress & Burnout.” ANA Enterprise, 2023.

  • National Nurses United. Nursing Staffing Crisis in the United States, 2022.

  • Bae, S. “Nurse Staffing and Patient Outcomes: A Literature Review.” Nursing Outlook, Vol. 64, No. 3 (2016): 322-333.

  • Bureau of Labor Statistics. “Union Members Summary.” U.S. Department of Labor, 2024.

  • Shah, M.K., Gandrakota, N., Cimiotti, J.P., Ghose, N., Moore, M., Ali, M.K. “Prevalence of and Factors Associated With Nurse Burnout in the US.” JAMA Network Open, Vol. 4, No. 2 (2021): e2036469.

  • Nelson, Sioban. Say Little, Do Much: Nursing, Nuns, and Hospitals in the Nineteenth Century. University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001.

  • Kalisch, Philip A. & Kalisch, Beatrice J. The Advance of American Nursing. Little, Brown, 1986.

  • Oregon Capital Chronicle, “Governor Kotek Criticizes Providence Over Largest Strike of Health Care Workers in State History,” January 2025.

  • Associated Press, “Oregon Health Care Strike Ends After Six Weeks,” February 2025.

  • National Nurses United, “New Orleans Nurses Deliver Notice for Third Strike at UMC,” 2025.

  • NurseTogether, “Nurse Strikes: An Increasing Trend in the U.S.,” 2024.

  • New York State Senate Bill S4003, “Safe Staffing for Hospital Care Act,” 2025.

  • San Francisco Chronicle, “Newsom Imposes Emergency Staffing Rules at State Psychiatric Hospitals,” 2025.

  • Times Union, “Editorial: Hospital’s Staffing Violations Show Need for Enforcement,” 2025.

  • Oulton, J.A. “The Global Nursing Shortage: An Overview of Issues and Actions.” Policy, Politics, & Nursing Practice, Vol. 7, No. 3 (2006): 34S–39S.

  • Rafferty, Anne Marie et al. “Outcomes of Variation in Hospital Nurse Staffing in English Hospitals.” BMJ Quality & Safety, 2007.

  • Aiken, Linda H. et al. “Nurse Staffing and Education and Hospital Mortality in Nine European Countries.” The Lancet, Vol. 383, No. 9931 (2014): 1824–1830.


Sunday, September 21, 2025

Charlie Kirk, Milo Yiannopoulos, and the Weaponization of Campus Free Speech

In the last decade, Charlie Kirk and Milo Yiannopoulos emerged as two of the most controversial figures on U.S. campuses. Though different in demeanor, both tapped into a potent formula: using universities as battlegrounds in the culture wars, staging spectacles that blurred the line between political activism, media provocation, and profit.

Yiannopoulos, a former Breitbart editor, built his American notoriety through his 2016–2017 campus speaking tour. His brand was openly flamboyant, camp, and cruel—delighting his fans with ridicule of feminists, Muslims, and LGBTQ activists while enraging opponents. The height of his career came at the University of California, Berkeley, in February 2017, when protests against his scheduled speech escalated into property damage, a police crackdown, and national media coverage. Berkeley—the symbolic birthplace of the 1960s Free Speech Movement—was suddenly cast as the stage for a right-wing provocation about free expression.

But the fallout from Yiannopoulos’s personal life quickly undercut his momentum. Video surfaced of him appearing to condone sexual relationships between older men and boys, remarks he later attempted to reframe as jokes or personal history. The scandal cost him a book deal with Simon & Schuster, led to his resignation from Breitbart, and triggered a cascade of canceled appearances. His sexual provocations, once a source of his appeal, became his undoing in mainstream conservative circles.

Charlie Kirk, meanwhile, chose a steadier path. With Turning Point USA, founded in 2012, he avoided Yiannopoulos’s sexual flamboyance and leaned instead on organization-building, donor cultivation, and a veneer of respectability. TPUSA planted chapters across hundreds of campuses, launched the Professor Watchlist, and turned campus protests into proof of “leftist intolerance.” If Yiannopoulos was the shock jock of campus conservatism, Kirk became its institution-builder.

Yet the connection between them remains. Both recognized the utility of outrage—that protests and cancellations could be reframed as censorship, and that universities could be cast as ideological enemies. Berkeley provided the prototype: a riot in defense of inclusivity was spun into evidence of liberal suppression, fueling conservative mobilization and fundraising.


Donors, Dark Money, and the Business of Outrage

Neither Yiannopoulos nor Kirk could have sustained their visibility without deep-pocketed benefactors and ideological patrons.

Yiannopoulos’s rise was closely tied to the Mercer family, the billionaire backers of Breitbart News who also helped fund Donald Trump’s 2016 campaign. Their patronage gave him a platform at Breitbart and the resources to stage his “Dangerous Faggot Tour.” When the pedophilia scandal erupted, the Mercers swiftly cut ties, leaving him adrift without institutional protection.

Kirk’s Turning Point USA followed a different trajectory, courting a wide network of wealthy conservative donors. According to IRS filings and investigative reports, TPUSA has received millions from the Koch network, Illinois Republican governor Bruce Rauner’s family, and donors linked to the DeVos family. By 2020, TPUSA’s budget topped $30 million annually, making it a financial juggernaut in the campus culture wars. The group’s lavish conferences, slick marketing, and constant media presence depended heavily on this donor pipeline.

These financial networks reveal that both Kirk and Yiannopoulos were never simply “grassroots” activists. They were, in fact, products of elite funding streams, crafted and sustained by billionaire patrons seeking cultural leverage. For universities, that means student protests were never just about clashing ideologies—they were also responses to well-financed operations designed to destabilize higher education as an institution and mobilize a generation of voters.


Kirk’s later alignment with Christian nationalism and the MAGA movement extended his influence far beyond campus politics. His assassination in September 2025 has already created a martyrdom narrative for the right, just as Yiannopoulos’s clashes at Berkeley created symbolic victories, even as his personal scandals consumed him.

For higher education, the legacies of Kirk and Yiannopoulos are instructive. Universities remain prime targets for political entrepreneurs who thrive on outrage, whether their methods are flamboyant and sexualized or organizational and ideological. The question for higher education is not whether these figures will return—others surely will—but whether institutions can resist being drawn, again and again, into spectacles that erode the very idea of the university as a space for learning and dialogue.


Sources

Thursday, September 18, 2025

Buyer Beware: Why All Schools and Majors Carry Risk — and Why HBCUs Deserve Better

For decades, American students have been told that higher education is the surest ticket to success. Families invest years of savings—or mountains of debt—into a degree, believing it will guarantee upward mobility. But the reality of U.S. higher education in 2025 is far more complex and far less secure. Buyer beware applies not only to shady for-profits or obscure degree programs, but to all schools and all majors.

And within this uneven playing field, Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) face a double bind: undervalued by mainstream rankings and underfunded by the very systems that claim to promote equity.

The Myth of the Golden Ticket

The dominant narrative says: “Go to college, pick the right major, and you’ll be fine.” Politicians repeat it. Universities market it. Parents cling to it. But the promise of a guaranteed return on investment has eroded.

  • Student loan debt now exceeds $1.7 trillion.

  • Nearly 40% of college graduates work in jobs that don’t require a degree, according to the Federal Reserve.

  • Wages for many majors have stagnated, while housing, healthcare, and childcare costs soar.

Even high-demand majors like computer science or nursing come with risks: market saturation, burnout, and outsourcing.

No School Is Immune

Elite schools tout prestige, but that does not insulate graduates from financial stress. Many Ivy League students leave with heavy debt burdens, particularly those without family wealth. Alumni networks can open doors, but they cannot protect against systemic shocks like housing bubbles, pandemics, or global financial crises.

Regional public universities and community colleges provide affordable pathways, but decades of state disinvestment have left many underfunded. For-profits, meanwhile, continue to lure vulnerable students with aggressive marketing and dubious job-placement claims.

And HBCUs—often with smaller endowments and student populations that are more likely to be first-generation and lower-income—have been penalized by these very dynamics, despite their outsized impact.

Every Major Carries Risk

STEM fields are not immune to volatility. Tech layoffs in 2023–2024 showed that even software engineers can face sudden unemployment. Nursing and teaching, often called “recession-proof,” are plagued with overwork, poor pay, and high attrition.

Meanwhile, students in the arts, humanities, and social sciences face the stigma of “low ROI” degrees, even though their fields foster critical thinking, creativity, and civic engagement—the very qualities society desperately needs.

The truth is that all majors are shaped by larger economic forces—automation, globalization, financial speculation, climate disruption—that no individual student can control.

The HBCU Paradox

While all students must be cautious about the promises of higher ed, HBCUs offer something mainstream rankings often ignore: real impact in social mobility and professional pipelines.

  • According to the National Science Foundation, nearly 25% of African American graduates with STEM bachelor’s degrees earned them at HBCUs.

  • More than half of African American doctors and lawyers received their undergraduate degrees at HBCUs.

  • A 2021 Brookings study concluded that HBCUs are “engines of upward mobility,” moving low-income students into higher income brackets at rates equal to or exceeding elite institutions.

Yet, systems like U.S. News & World Report, Forbes, QS, and Times Higher Education continue to underrate HBCUs because their metrics reward institutional wealth and exclusivity, not educational value.

By contrast, Washington Monthly, which measures social mobility, research benefiting society, and community service, consistently ranks HBCUs higher. Their success under these fairer metrics demonstrates how skewed the mainstream rankings truly are.

What Prospective Students Should Ask

Whether applying to an Ivy League university, a regional public, a for-profit, or an HBCU, students should treat college as a major financial investment. That means asking hard questions:

  • What is the total cost of attendance after aid?

  • What percentage of graduates find full-time work in their field within two years?

  • What is the median debt load of graduates—and the median salary five and ten years after?

  • What percentage of students drop out before graduating?

  • How transparent is the school about these outcomes?

A System in Need of Reform

Ultimately, the “buyer beware” crisis in higher education is not about students making poor choices. It is about a system that pushes risk onto individuals while rewarding wealth and privilege.

HBCUs prove that institutions with fewer resources can deliver extraordinary results for students and society. But until rankings, funding formulas, and public policy recognize that value, students across the board will continue to shoulder the risks of a speculative credential market.

In today’s higher education economy, buyer beware applies to all schools and all majors—but students and society alike would be better served if we valued institutions, like HBCUs, that truly deliver on the promise of access and upward mobility.


Sources:

  • Federal Reserve Bank of New York (2023). Labor Market Outcomes of College Graduates.

  • Georgetown University Center on Education and the Workforce (2022). ROI of College Majors.

  • National Center for Education Statistics (2024). Student Loan Debt and Repayment.

  • Brookings Institution (2021). The Economic Mobility of Historically Black Colleges and Universities.

  • UNCF (2020). HBCUs Make America Strong: The Positive Economic Impact of Historically Black Colleges and Universities.

  • Washington Monthly (2024). National University Rankings.

  • National Science Foundation (2022). Women, Minorities, and Persons with Disabilities in Science and Engineering.

Monday, September 15, 2025

Truth as Therapy for Higher Education

Anosognosia is the inability to recognize one’s own illness or disability. In higher education, it describes the chronic denial of a system in crisis—one that refuses to admit its own collapse.

For decades, U.S. higher education has been sold as the great equalizer. The story was simple: borrow, study, graduate, succeed. But the data show the opposite. What we are witnessing is a long college meltdown, masked by denial at the highest levels of government, university administrations, and Wall Street.

The Debt Trap

  • Outstanding student loan debt now exceeds $1.77 trillion, burdening more than 43 million Americans.

  • Nearly 20 percent of borrowers are in default or serious delinquency.

  • Black borrowers, especially Black women, carry the heaviest burdens and are least likely to see upward mobility from their degrees.

  • Many in income-driven repayment programs will never pay off principal, living in a permanent state of debt peonage.

Universities and policymakers insist debt is an “investment.” But for millions, it is a generational shackle.

The Exploited Faculty

  • More than 70 percent of college instructors are contingent.

  • Adjuncts often earn less than $3,500 per course, with no healthcare, no retirement, and no security.

  • Roughly one in four adjuncts relies on public assistance.

Universities still market themselves as communities of scholars. In reality, they operate on the same exploitative labor practices as Uber or Amazon.

The Employment Mismatch

  • Four in ten recent grads work in jobs that don’t require a degree.

  • One-third of graduates say their work is unrelated to their major.

  • Median real wages for college graduates have been flat for 25 years.

Still, higher ed pushes “lifelong learning” credentials, turning underemployment into a new revenue stream.

Prestige as Denial

  • At Ivy League universities, 40 percent of students come from the top 5 percent of households.

  • Fewer than 5 percent come from the bottom fifth.

  • Endowments soar—Harvard’s sits at $50 billion—but tuition relief and faculty wages barely budge.

This is not mobility. It is a hereditary elite cloaked in the language of meritocracy.

Climate Contradictions

  • Universities promote sustainability but invest billions in fossil fuels.

  • Campus expansion and luxury amenities drive up emissions, water use, and labor exploitation.

Even here, anosognosia reigns: branding over reality.

The Meltdown Denied

The college meltdown has been unfolding for more than a decade:

  • Small liberal arts colleges shuttering.

  • Regional publics bleeding enrollments.

  • For-profits morphing into “nonprofits” while still funneling money to investors.

  • State funding eroded, shifting the cost to students and families.

But instead of confronting the collapse, higher ed leaders rely on rhetoric: “innovation,” “resilience,” “access.” Like anosognosia, denial itself becomes survival.

The Human Cost

The denial is not harmless. It is measured in:

  • The indebted graduate delaying family formation and homeownership.

  • The adjunct commuting across counties to string together courses while living below the poverty line.

  • The working-class family betting their savings on a degree that will not deliver mobility.

The meltdown is here. Higher education’s inability—or refusal—to admit it ensures the damage will deepen.

Truth and Healing 

Anosognosia prevents healing because it prevents recognition of the problem. U.S. higher education cannot admit its own disease, so it cannot begin recovery. Until it does, students, families, and workers will bear the costs of a system in denial.


Sources

  • Federal Reserve Bank of New York, Quarterly Report on Household Debt and Credit (2025)

  • National Center for Education Statistics (NCES), Digest of Education Statistics (2023)

  • American Association of University Professors (AAUP), Annual Report on the Economic Status of the Profession (2024)

  • Pew Research Center, The Rising Cost of Not Going to College (2023 update)

  • The Century Foundation, Adjunct Project (2022)

  • Chetty et al., Mobility Report Cards: The Role of Colleges in Intergenerational Mobility (2017, with updates)

  • IPEDS (Integrated Postsecondary Education Data System), U.S. Department of Education

  • Harvard Management Company, Endowment Report (2024)

  • Higher Education Inquirer, College Meltdown archive (2018–2025)