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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

Decades of Systemic Corruption

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

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

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

The Trump-Hegseth Department of Defense

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

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

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

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

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

Volcano Rumbles: Higher Education and the Unfolding Crisis of American Democracy

“When Fascism came into power, most people were unprepared, both theoretically and practically. They were unable to believe that man could exhibit such propensities for evil, such lust for power, such disregard for the rights of the weak, or such yearning for submission. Only a few had been aware of the rumbling of the volcano preceding the outbreak.”

—Erich Fromm, Escape From Freedom

On this Independence Day in 2025, the air is heavy with foreboding. Across the United States, fireworks burst into the sky as if nothing has changed. But below the spectacle lies a country teetering between democracy and authoritarian rule. The institutions tasked with preserving truth, freedom, and critical thought—most notably higher education—are caught in the crossfire of what Erich Fromm warned of nearly a century ago: the rise of modern fascism, not as a dramatic coup, but as a creeping normalization of authoritarian values under the guise of "freedom."

The Rumbles Before the Eruption

In hindsight, the signs were glaring. Corporate capture of the public good. The erosion of academic freedom. The transformation of universities from spaces of inquiry to credential factories and financial instruments. A growing surveillance infrastructure built not only by Big Tech but in concert with university IT departments, data brokers, and online program managers. The rise of so-called “free speech zones” and legislative gag orders that redefined political speech while silencing dissent.

What we are witnessing is not merely political turbulence—it is a full-scale epistemic breakdown, a national forgetting of what education is supposed to be.

The Trump Spending Bill and Project 2025

The reemergence of Donald Trump on the national stage—and his allies' vision through the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025—has laid bare the authoritarian designs of a political movement bent on reshaping the federal government into a weapon against its own people. Under the new Trump Spending Bill, long-standing environmental protections, civil rights enforcement, and funding for critical education and research have been gutted. Student aid programs like Pell Grants are under siege, while massive giveaways to corporate polluters and military contractors accelerate.

The Department of Education itself is on life support, with Executive Order 14242 outlining a road map for its dissolution. Academic accreditation is being refashioned into a tool of ideological enforcement. DEI initiatives are being replaced with patriotic education mandates, while campuses are encouraged to police faculty and curricula for "anti-Americanism."

Higher Education: Complicit, Crippled, and Co-opted

Higher education did not arrive at this moment innocently. Elite institutions embraced neoliberalism decades ago, relying increasingly on corporate donations, defense contracts, and hedge fund returns. Many public universities, once proud bastions of working-class mobility, became tuition-dependent and debt-financed enterprises.

For years, scholars warned of growing authoritarian trends in American politics. But those voices—often contingent faculty, graduate students, and independent researchers—were sidelined, their jobs precarious, their influence limited. Meanwhile, college presidents and boards of trustees courted billionaires and politicians, hoping to remain above the fray.

The result is a sector fractured and weakened, unable to mount a coherent defense of democracy. In many places, it has become part of the problem—administered by opportunists, managed by AI-powered surveillance, and staffed by an underclass of overworked adjuncts who barely make a living.

The Yearning for Submission

Fromm’s insight—his warning that many people want to submit—rings especially true today. The cult of personality, the vilification of expertise, and the rise of conspiracy over fact have flourished in a vacuum of meaning and solidarity. Higher education once promised both, but its commodification has left millions alienated, indebted, and skeptical.

The myth of meritocracy—long propped up by institutions like Harvard, Stanford, and the University of Phoenix—has collapsed under the weight of its contradictions. People now look elsewhere for answers: to strongmen, to influencers, to AI chatbots, and to nostalgic visions of a past that never truly existed.

What Comes Next?

This is not a call for despair, but for resistance. If there is hope for American democracy, it lies in reclaiming the public mission of education—not just in words, but in practice.

That means supporting independent and investigative journalism. It means dismantling the corporate stranglehold on curriculum, research, and governance. It means honoring the work of teachers, librarians, and adjuncts who continue to hold the line in the face of overwhelming odds. And it means building alliances with those outside the academy—working families, community organizers, students—who understand that education is not a luxury, but a battleground.

On this Fourth of July, let us not retreat into comfortable myths or cynical fatalism. The volcano is still rumbling. But so too is the conscience of those who refuse to be silenced.

Let us remember: freedom is not inherited—it is practiced, defended, and reimagined in every generation.

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Sources

• Erich Fromm, Escape From Freedom (1941)

• Heritage Foundation, Mandate for Leadership: The Conservative Promise (Project 2025)

• U.S. House of Representatives, 2025 Appropriations Bill

• The Century Foundation, “The Future of Higher Ed in an Age of Authoritarianism” (2024)

• Chronicle of Higher Education, “Colleges Under Siege” (2025)

• Higher Education Inquirer archives

Supreme Court Ruling Threatens Healthcare Access for Working-Class College Women

In a landmark ruling on June 26, the U.S. Supreme Court sided with South Carolina in its effort to defund Planned Parenthood by excluding it from the state’s Medicaid program. The Court’s 6-3 decision, issued along ideological lines, has far-reaching consequences that extend well beyond the politics of abortion. At stake is the ability of Medicaid recipients to challenge state actions that restrict access to qualified healthcare providers, and among those most affected are working-class women—particularly those trying to build better futures through higher education.

For millions of low-income students, particularly women attending community colleges, for-profit institutions, and public universities, Medicaid and Planned Parenthood are vital safety nets. These students often juggle full course loads with jobs, caregiving responsibilities, and personal financial struggles. For them, Planned Parenthood has been more than a provider of abortion services. It offers birth control, cancer screenings, STI testing, reproductive counseling, and referrals for other necessary medical care. In many areas, especially in the South and rural regions like South Carolina, Planned Parenthood is one of the few accessible providers that treat Medicaid patients with dignity and without judgment.

The Supreme Court’s ruling removes the legal power of those patients to sue when a state excludes such providers from the Medicaid program, even if those providers are otherwise qualified. In her dissent, Justice Ketanji Brown Jackson wrote that this decision would result in "tangible harm to real people," depriving Medicaid recipients of their only meaningful way to enforce rights Congress granted them. And she’s right. The ruling effectively silences the most vulnerable people in the healthcare system—people who are too poor to pay out of pocket and too marginalized to be heard in political decision-making.

For working-class women in college, this decision could be devastating. When they lose access to affordable reproductive healthcare, their academic goals are put at risk. The ability to plan pregnancies, receive prenatal care, or treat chronic reproductive health issues is foundational to educational persistence and success. Without it, students may drop out due to unplanned pregnancies, untreated health conditions, or overwhelming financial strain. This outcome is particularly likely for women of color, who are already overrepresented in low-income student populations and underrepresented in graduation rates.

The myth that working-class women have “plenty of other options” falls apart under scrutiny. In South Carolina, nearly 40 percent of counties are considered “contraceptive deserts,” areas where access to affordable contraception is limited or nonexistent. While the state claims there are over a hundred other clinics available, many of these lack the staffing, specialization, or welcoming environment of Planned Parenthood. In practice, the choice is not between providers—it’s between care and no care.

Beyond immediate healthcare impacts, the ruling has structural implications for the political economy of both education and health. It reveals how deeply interlinked these systems are, and how the erosion of rights in one domain—healthcare—directly undermines access and equity in another—education. This is not an isolated case. It fits into a broader strategy by right-wing legislators and courts to control reproductive autonomy, silence poor people’s legal recourse, and undermine public systems that serve the working class.

It also exposes the hypocrisy of institutions and corporations that profit from inequality. As this ruling was being issued, ads for Hillsdale College and the University of Phoenix appeared alongside the coverage, promoting liberty and career advancement while healthcare infrastructure for their target demographics crumbles. This is the business model of disaster capitalism—undermine public goods, then monetize the chaos.

The consequences will be real and immediate. A working mother studying to become a nurse or teacher may now have to miss classes or drop out because she cannot get a Pap smear, refill her birth control, or find prenatal care. A young Black student in a Southern community college may now have no place to turn when she needs reproductive health services. A low-income family may be forced into debt to treat a preventable condition that would have been caught in a routine screening at Planned Parenthood. These are not hypothetical scenarios. They are the daily realities of an educated underclass pushed further to the margins.

The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to follow this story as GOP-led states are expected to follow South Carolina’s lead, and as advocacy organizations brace for a long and difficult fight. For now, the Supreme Court’s decision stands as a sobering reminder that health, education, and justice in America remain deeply entangled—and increasingly inaccessible—for those without wealth or political power.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Risepoint and the Online Program Management Model

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

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

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

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

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

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

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What Ties Them Together: Vistria Group

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

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

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

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

Investigative Journalism Sheds Light on University of Phoenix Acquisition Attempts

In the realm of higher education, the proposed acquisitions of the University of Phoenix by public institutions have sparked significant debate and scrutiny. Two journalists, Kevin Richert of Idaho Education News and Debra Hale-Shelton of the Arkansas Times, have been at the forefront of reporting on these developments, providing in-depth analyses and uncovering critical details about the respective efforts in Idaho and Arkansas.

Kevin Richert's Reporting on Idaho's Attempted Acquisition

Kevin Richert, a seasoned journalist with over 35 years of experience in Idaho journalism, has extensively covered the University of Idaho's proposed $685 million acquisition of the University of Phoenix. His reporting delved into the financial implications, legal challenges, and public concerns surrounding the deal. Richert highlighted that the University of Idaho had spent over $14 million on legal and consulting fees related to the acquisition, raising questions about fiscal responsibility and transparency. He also brought attention to a lawsuit filed by Attorney General Raúl Labrador concerning the State Board of Education's closed-door meetings, which were central to the approval process. Furthermore, Richert analyzed the potential reputational risks for the University of Idaho, with critics arguing that acquiring a for-profit institution like the University of Phoenix could undermine the university's brand. His diligent pursuit of public records and insistence on governmental transparency have been pivotal in informing the public and fostering accountability.

Debra Hale-Shelton's Investigation into Arkansas's Pursuit

In Arkansas, Debra Hale-Shelton's investigative journalism for the Arkansas Times provided a comprehensive look into the University of Arkansas System's efforts to acquire the University of Phoenix. Her reporting revealed that even after the UA System's board of trustees rejected President Donald Bobbitt's proposal for a nonprofit affiliate to buy the online university, negotiations continued. According to court documents, representatives of the UA System remained engaged in discussions with the University of Phoenix and its financial adviser, Tyton Partners, exploring options to garner support from trustees or bring in external partners for the acquisition. Hale-Shelton's work also uncovered concerns about the lack of transparency and the use of nondisclosure agreements, which raised questions about compliance with the Arkansas Freedom of Information Act. Her persistent inquiries and detailed reporting brought to light the complexities and controversies surrounding the proposed deal.

The Impact of Investigative Journalism

The efforts of Kevin Richert and Debra Hale-Shelton underscore the vital role of investigative journalism in holding public institutions accountable. Their meticulous reporting not only informed the public but also prompted discussions about governance, transparency, and the future of higher education. By shedding light on these significant developments, they have contributed to a more informed and engaged citizenry.

Mental Health for the Working Class: Who’s Behind the Therapy Boom?

The Affordable Care Act (ACA), commonly known as Obamacare, has significantly expanded access to mental health services in the United States, particularly for working-class individuals and families. The expansion of Medicaid and marketplace plans has made therapy and psychiatric care more accessible. However, the infrastructure supporting this mental health revolution is complex, under-resourced, and increasingly influenced by private equity. As more Americans seek care, questions arise about who is delivering that care—and whether the system prioritizes well-being or profits.

The Workforce Patchwork

The delivery of mental health services today relies on a varied network of professionals. In community clinics, federally qualified health centers, and outpatient networks, the bulk of therapeutic care comes from mid-level clinicians: Licensed Clinical Social Workers (LCSWs), Licensed Professional Counselors (LPCs), and Marriage and Family Therapists (MFTs). These are master's-level professionals who carry substantial educational and clinical training but are frequently underpaid and overworked.

Psychiatric Nurse Practitioners have also filled a critical gap, often handling medication management in lieu of psychiatrists, especially in rural and underserved areas. Meanwhile, case managers and peer support workers—some with minimal formal education—are tasked with providing wraparound services like housing support, job placement, and crisis management.

Psychiatrists and doctoral-level psychologists, though highly trained, are in short supply and are often unwilling to accept Medicaid or ACA plan reimbursements. This leaves many lower-income patients with few options for specialized care.

Enter Private Equity

In recent years, private equity (PE) firms have aggressively moved into the mental health space. Attracted by rising demand for services and relatively stable reimbursement streams from public insurance programs, PE investors have acquired numerous outpatient mental health clinics, telehealth platforms, and addiction treatment centers. Research indicates that PE firms now account for as much as a quarter of practices providing behavioral health services in some states (OHSU, 2024).

While this influx of capital has allowed for rapid expansion, it has also introduced new pressures on the workforce. To maximize returns, many PE-backed firms rely heavily on newly licensed clinicians or even graduate students under supervision. In some cases, providers are pushed into independent contractor roles to reduce labor costs and avoid benefit obligations.

Clinicians report being pressured to increase their patient loads, reduce session times, and adhere to standardized scripts or protocols designed for efficiency, not individualized care. Turnover is high, and burnout is common. A 2023 survey by the American Psychological Association found that over 60% of mental health practitioners reported experiencing symptoms of burnout (Therapy Wisdom, 2024).

The Role of Robocolleges in the Mental Health Pipeline

The rise of online, for-profit, and quasi-public "robocolleges"—such as Walden University, Purdue University Global, the University of Phoenix, Capella University, and others—has significantly shaped the labor pipeline for mental health services. These institutions mass-produce degrees in psychology, counseling, and social work, often catering to nontraditional and working adult students with limited time and financial resources.

Programs are designed for scale and efficiency, not necessarily for rigor or clinical depth. Courses are often asynchronous, adjunct-taught, and heavily standardized. Clinical placements and supervision, vital components of a therapist’s training, are sometimes outsourced or inadequately supported—leaving graduates with inconsistent real-world experience.

These institutions also disproportionately enroll students from lower-income and minority backgrounds, many of whom take on significant debt for degrees that may lead to low-paying, high-stress jobs in underfunded clinics or PE-owned mental health companies.

While robocolleges expand access to credentials, they may also contribute to a deprofessionalized, precarious workforce—one in which therapists are underprepared, underpaid, and overextended. Their graduates often fill the lower rungs of the mental health care ladder, working in environments where quality and continuity of care are compromised by systemic churn.

Quality and Equity in the Balance

The result is a mental health system that, while more accessible than in previous decades, is increasingly stratified. Working-class patients often receive care from entry-level or overburdened professionals, while wealthier clients can afford private practitioners who offer more time, continuity, and personalized care.

This imbalance is further complicated by a lack of oversight. Licensing boards and state agencies struggle to monitor the growing number of clinics and telehealth services, many of which operate across state lines or rely on algorithms to triage patients.

Meanwhile, the very people the ACA aimed to help—those juggling low-wage jobs, family stress, and systemic disadvantage—are left in a system where care may be quick, transactional, and occasionally substandard.

The Role of Traditional Higher Education

Traditional colleges and universities play a dual role: they continue to train therapists and counselors in more rigorous academic environments, but they also face growing pressure to "compete" with robocolleges in terms of cost, speed, and flexibility. At the same time, these institutions increasingly outsource student counseling services to external mental health platforms—some of them owned by private equity firms.

Thus, the cycle continues: higher education feeds the mental health system, while also adopting many of its structural compromises.

Conclusion

The expansion of mental health coverage under the ACA is a major public policy achievement. But access alone is not enough. The quality of care, the working conditions of providers, and the growing influence of profit-seeking investors and education mills all demand greater scrutiny.

For working-class Americans, mental health has become another arena where the promise of care often collides with the reality of austerity and privatization. And for those training to enter the profession, especially through robocolleges, the path forward may be just as precarious.

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References:

• Private Equity’s Inroads Into Mental Health Bring Concern

• The State of the Behavioral Health Workforce, November 2024 – HRSA

• Private Equity’s Move into Behavioral Health Care and Disparities

• Therapist Burnout and Toxic Private Equity in 2025

• Private Equity Is Gutting Autism Services – The Nation

• OHSU Study: Private Equity Expanding into Mental Health

• University of Phoenix and the Business of Selling Degrees

• The Cost of a Walden Degree

Trump Administration Cancels $37 Million Fine Levied Against Grand Canyon U For Deceiving Students (David Halperin)

The Donald J. Trump administration, which claims its DOGE-driven reshaping of the federal government is aimed at cutting waste, fraud, and abuse, quietly cancelled a $37 million fine that the Department of Education, under the Biden administration, imposed in 2023 on Grand Canyon University. The fine was levied after Department investigators documented extensive findings that GCU, which takes billions in taxpayer dollars, systematically deceived students about the costs of their educations.

Grand Canyon announced the cancellation of the fine on its website on Friday.

Grand Canyon had appealed the fine to a review panel inside the Department. Republic Report contacted Grand Canyon spokesperson Bob Romantic last Wednesday inquiring about the status of the appeal; he messaged me that he would get back in touch Thursday to respond, but he didn’t respond to my follow-up message that day. The Department of Education did not reply to my request last week for comment on the appeal.

In its announcement Friday, Grand Canyon stated that the Department, by means of “a Joint Stipulation of Dismissal order issued by ED’s Office of Hearings and Appeals” acted to “dismiss[ ] the case with no findings, fines, liabilities or penalties of any kind.”

Grand Canyon, which bills itself as a Christian school, had waged a public campaign claiming it was attacked by the Biden administration on the basis of politics and religious persecution.

In reality, the $37 million fine, indeed unusually large for the Department, was pegged to the gravity and scope of the abuses, as well as the size of the institution and the taxpayer funds it receives: Phoenix-based Grand Canyon, which in 2022-23 enrolled more than 100,000 students in-person and online, gets the largest amount of federal student aid of any college or university in the country. GCU received $862 million from taxpayers for Department of Education federal student grants and loans in 2022-23 out of $1.3 billion in revenue, and received additional federal funding for student aid from the departments of Defense and Veterans Affairs.

In a 34-page letter addressed to Grand Canyon president Brian Mueller in October 2023, the Department described in detail the deceptive conduct found by its investigators.


The Department concluded that Grand Canyon “lied to more than 7,500 former and current students about the cost of its doctoral programs over several years. GCU falsely advertised a lower cost than what 98% of students ended up paying to complete certain doctoral programs.”


The probe found that going back to 2017, GCU violated the prohibition in federal law against making “substantial misrepresentations” by failing to tell students enough about the cost of the school’s doctoral programs and stating on the school website and in other materials that the programs cost between $40,000 and $49,000. GCU’s own data, according to the Department, shows that less than 2 percent of graduates completed their students within the cost range that GCU advertised. Most students needed to enroll in and pay for “continuation courses” to complete the dissertation requirement in these doctoral programs. The school’s data also showed that 78 percent of doctoral program graduates had to pay between $10,000 and $12,000 more than GCU had advertised.

According to the Department, Grand Canyon “did not contest [the Department’s] determination that 98% of students enrolled in certain doctoral programs had to pay more than GCU’s advertised cost.”

Yet the Department under new Trump education secretary Linda McMahon has now let Grand Canyon off the hook.

GCU President Mueller said in a statement Friday, “The facts clearly support our contention that we were wrongly accused of misleading our Doctoral students and we appreciate the recognition that those accusations were without merit.”

Educator Mueller, who makes $661,000 as president of non-profit Grand Canyon University, and then another $2 million a year as CEO of the school’s for-profit servicing arm Grand Canyon Education, held a scare rally on the GCU campus in 2023 after his school was fined. There, he warned his audience, “There is a group of people in Washington DC who has the intention to harm us.” He also advanced the baseless and incendiary claim, subsequently echoed by conservative influencers, that Grand Canyon was targeted because it presents itself as a Christian school.

But the evidence developed by the Department’s investigation that GCU deceived doctoral students was echoed by many of those affected: The Department said last year that it had received more than 750 complaints by doctoral students against GCU since 2020.

As in the first Trump administration, people connected to for-profit colleges now have influence over higher education decisions at the Department. For example, Trump’s nominee for Under Secretary of Education, Nicholas Kent, currently a senior adviser at the Department, once was a senior staff member at the for-profit college lobbying group CECU. Prior to that, Kent was an executive at Education Affiliates, a Baltimore-based for-profit college operation that faced civil and criminal investigation and actions by the Justice Department for deceptive practices.

Another federal agency, the Federal Trade Commission, also has taken action against Grand Canyon, suing the school, for-profit arm Grand Canyon Education, and Mueller in Arizona federal court in December 2023 over the same deceptive claims to doctoral students about the costs and course requirements of programs — and claims about the school’s nonprofit status. The FTC also alleged that Grand Canyon engaged in deceptive and abusive telemarketing.

Grand Canyon has twice moved to throw out the FTC lawsuit, and the judge has dismissed some aspects of it, including removing GCU as a defendant, but the case is still pending, bogged down in disputes over discovery. (Mueller’s personal attorneys in the case include former U.S. solicitor general Paul Clement and Steven Gombos.)

Grand Canyon said on Friday that the FTC lawsuit continues “despite the fact the lawsuit essentially raises the same manufactured nonprofit and doctoral disclosure claims that have been refuted, rejected and dismissed.”

The Trump administration has cancelled numerous law enforcement investigations against entities that have shown fealty to or ideological kinship with President Trump, and has fired the two Democratic commissioners on the FTC. But the FTC case against GCU, at least for now, is proceeding.

While some in the career college industry donated big to Trump, federal records show only one political contribution by Brian Mueller in the last federal cycle: $1000 in 2023 to Mike Pence for President.

Part of Grand Canyon’s righteous anger toward the Department of Education during Biden’s term focused on the Department’s refusal to recognize Grand Canyon as a non-profit school for purposes of Department rules, even though, after Grand Canyon converted its school from for-profit to non-profit, the IRS granted the school that status for tax purposes. But the ties between supposed non-profit Grand Canyon University and for-profit Grand Canyon Education were so blatant — GCU sends most of its revenue to publicly-traded GCE, and Brian Mueller is the head of both operations — that GCU’s non-profit status was rejected not by Biden education secretary Miguel Cardona, but by his predecessor, deeply Christian and deeply for-profit college-loving Betsy DeVos. (Last November, a panel of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit reversed a district court decision upholding the Department’s denial of non-profit status to GCU and remanded to the Department to revisit the decision under a different legal standard.)

Even if the Trump administration has cancelled the Biden education department’s effort to protect America’s students from Grand Canyon’s deceptive and predatory practices, Grand Canyon’s legal troubles are not over. Beyond the FTC case, in June 2024, students filed a class action lawsuit against Grand Canyon Education, alleging that the company “orchestrated a deceitful racketeering scheme by misleading prospective students about the true cost of doctoral degrees at Grand Canyon University….” On May 6, a federal judge in Arizona rejected all but one of the arguments raised by GCE in a motion to dismiss, meaning the case will move forward on most of the students’ claims.

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

DOD continues to shield bad actor schools that prey upon military servicemembers

For more than seven years, we have been waiting to obtain information from the US Department of Defense (DOD) about schools that prey upon servicemembers using DOD Tuition Assistance to further their college aspirations. And we have done it at our peril, repeatedly taking flak from people in DC.  

As the Higher Education Inquirer reported earlier, DOD and these schools have had questionable relationships with these schools going back to the 1980s, with the for-profit college takeover of CCME, the Council of College and Military Educators.  

Those who follow the higher education business know the names of the bad actors, some that are still in business (like the University of Phoenix and Colorado Tech) and some that have closed (like ITT Tech and the Art Institutes). Others have morphed into arms of state universities (Kaplan University becoming Purdue University Global and Ashford University becoming University of Arizona Global). 

Accountability was supposed to happen during the Obama administration (with Executive Order 13607) but those rules were not fully implemented. Under the first Trump administration, these safeguards were largely ignored, and bad actor schools faced no penalties.  

Some of these scandals were reported in the media, and have been forgotten.

On April 1, 2025 we were again supposed to receive information about these bad actor schools, and the DOD officials who were complicit.  It didn't happen. That FOIA (22-1203) which was initiated in July 2022 is now scheduled for a reply on July 3, 2025, three years from the original submission. 

Previous FOIAs from 2019 also came up with no information.  And requests for information in 2017 from DOD officials were met with harassment from other parties. 

The only thing we can be grateful for is that DOD continues to communicate with us. 

 

Related links:

Trump's DOD Failed to Protect Servicemembers from Bad Actor Colleges, But We Demand More Evidence 

DoD review: 0% of schools following TA rules (Military Times, 2018)

Schools are struggling to meet TA rules, but DoD isn’t punishing them. Here’s why. (Military Times, 2019)

Trump’s Higher Education Crackdown: Culture War in a Cap and Gown

In a recent flurry of executive orders, former President Donald Trump has escalated his administration’s long-running war on American higher education, targeting college accreditation processes, foreign donations to universities, and elite institutions like Harvard and Columbia. Framed as a campaign for accountability and meritocracy, these actions are in reality part of a broader effort to weaponize public distrust, reinforce ideological purity tests, and strong-arm colleges into political obedience.

But even if Trump's crusade were rooted in good faith—which it clearly is not—his chosen mechanism for “fixing” higher education, the accreditation system, is already deeply flawed. It’s not just that Trump is using a broken tool for political ends—it's that the tool itself has long been part of the problem.

Accreditation: Already a Low Bar

Accreditation in U.S. higher education is often mistaken by the public as a sign of quality. In reality, it’s often a rubber stamp—granted by private agencies funded by the very schools they evaluate. “Yet in practice,” write economists David Deming and David Figlio, “accreditors—who are paid by the institutions themselves—appear to be ineffectual at best, much like the role of credit rating agencies during the recent financial crisis.”

As a watchdog of America’s subprime colleges and a monitor of the ongoing College Meltdown, the Higher Education Inquirer has long reported that institutional accreditation is no sign of academic quality. Worse, it is frequently used by subprime colleges as a veneer of legitimacy to mask predatory practices, inflated tuition, and low academic standards.

The Higher Learning Commission (HLC), the nation’s largest accreditor, monitors nearly a thousand institutions—ranging from prestigious schools like the University of Chicago and University of Michigan to for-profit, scandal-plagued operations such as Colorado Technical University, DeVry University, University of Phoenix, and Walden University. These subprime colleges receive billions annually in federal student aid—money that flows through an accreditation pipeline that’s barely regulated and heavily compromised.

On the three pillars of accreditation—compliance, quality assurance, and quality improvement—the Higher Learning Commission often fails spectacularly when it comes to subprime institutions. That’s not just a bug in the system; it’s the system working as designed.

Who Watches the Watchers?

Accreditors like the HLC receive dues from member institutions, giving them a vested interest in keeping their customers viable, no matter how exploitative their practices may be. Despite objections from the American Association of University Professors, the HLC has accredited for-profit colleges since 1977 and ethically questionable operations for nearly two decades.

As Mary A. Burgan, then General Secretary of the AAUP, put it bluntly in 2000:

"I really worry about the intrusion of the profit motive in the accreditation system. Some of them, as I have said, will accredit a ham sandwich..."

[Image: From CHEA: Higher Learning Commission dues for member colleges. Over the last 30 years, HLC has received millions of dollars from subprime schools like the University of Phoenix.]

The Council for Higher Education Accreditation (CHEA), which oversees accreditors, acts more like a trade association than a watchdog. Meanwhile, the U.S. Department of Education—the only federal entity with oversight responsibility—has done little to ensure quality or accountability. Under the Trump-DeVos regime, the Department actively dismantled what little regulatory framework existed, rolling back Obama-era protections that aimed to curb predatory schools and improve transparency.

In 2023, an internal investigation revealed that the Department of Education was failing to properly monitor accreditors—yet Trump’s solution is to hand even more power to this broken apparatus while demanding it serve political ends.

Harvard: Not a Victim, But a Gatekeeper of the Elite

While Trump's attacks on Harvard are rooted in personal and political animus, it's important not to portray the university as a defenseless bastion of the common good. Harvard is already deeply entrenched in elite power structures—economically, socially, and politically.

The university’s admissions policies have long favored legacy applicants, children of donors, and the ultra-wealthy. It has one of the largest endowments in the world—over $50 billion—yet its efforts to serve working-class and marginalized students remain modest in proportion to its vast resources.

Harvard has produced more Wall Street bankers, U.S. presidents, and Supreme Court justices than any other institution. Its graduates populate the upper echelons of the corporate, political, and media elite. In many ways, Harvard is the establishment Trump claims to rail against—even if his own policies often reinforce that very establishment.

Harvard is not leading a revolution in equity or access. Rather, it polishes the credentials of those already destined to lead, reinforcing a hierarchy that leaves most Americans—including working-class and first-generation students—on the outside looking in.

The Silence on Legacy Admissions

While Trump rails against elite universities in the name of “meritocracy,” there is a glaring omission in the conversation: the entrenched unfairness of legacy admissions. These policies—where applicants with familial ties to alumni receive preferential treatment—are among the most blatant violations of meritocratic ideals. Yet neither Trump’s executive orders nor the broader political discourse dare to address them.

Legacy admissions are a quiet but powerful engine of privilege, disproportionately benefiting white, wealthy students and preserving generational inequality. At institutions like Harvard, Yale, and Princeton, legacy applicants are admitted at significantly higher rates than the general pool, even when controlling for academic credentials. This practice rewards lineage over talent and undermines the very idea of equal opportunity that higher education claims to uphold.

Despite bipartisan rhetoric about fairness and access, few politicians—Democratic or Republican—have challenged the legitimacy of legacy preferences. It’s a testament to how deeply intertwined elite institutions are with the political and economic establishment. And it’s a reminder that the war on higher education is not about fixing inequalities—it’s about reshaping the system to serve different masters.

A Hypocritical Power Grab

Trump’s newfound concern with educational “results” is laced with hypocrisy. The former president’s own venture into higher education—Trump University—was a grift that ended in legal disgrace and financial restitution to defrauded students. Now, Trump is posing as the savior of academic merit, while promoting an ideologically-driven overhaul of the very system that allowed scams like his to thrive.

By focusing on elite universities, Trump exploits populist resentment while ignoring the real scandal: that billions in public funds are siphoned off by institutions with poor student outcomes and high loan default rates—many of them protected by the very accrediting agencies he now claims to reform.

Conclusion: Political Theater, Not Policy

Trump's latest actions are not reforms—they're retribution. His executive orders target symbolic elites, not systemic rot. They turn accreditation into a partisan tool while leaving the worst actors untouched—or even empowered.

Meanwhile, elite institutions like Harvard remain complicit in maintaining a class hierarchy that benefits the powerful, even as they protest their innocence in today’s political battles.

Real accountability in higher education would mean cracking down on predatory schools, reforming or replacing failed accreditors, and restoring rigorous federal oversight. But this administration isn't interested in cleaning up the swamp—it’s repurposing the muck for its own ends.

The Higher Education Inquirer remains committed to pulling back the curtain on these abuses—no matter where they come from or how well they are disguised.

The Digital Dark Ages

In this so-called Age of Information, we find ourselves plunged into a paradoxical darkness—a time when myth increasingly triumphs over truth, and justice is routinely deformed or deferred. At The Higher Education Inquirer, we call it the Digital Dark Ages.

Despite the unprecedented access to data and connectivity, we’re witnessing a decay in critical thought, a rise in disinformation, and the erosion of institutions once thought to be champions of intellectual rigor. Higher education, far from being immune, is now entangled in this digital storm—none more so than in the rise of robocolleges and the assault on public universities themselves.

The Fog of Myth

The myths of the Digital Dark Ages come packaged as innovation and access. Online education is heralded as the great equalizer—a tool to democratize knowledge and reach underserved students. But as the dust settles, a darker truth emerges: many of these online programs are not centers of enlightenment, but factories of debt and disillusionment. Myth has become a business model.

The fantasy of upward mobility through a flexible online degree masks a grim reality. The students—often working-class professionals juggling jobs and families—become robostudents, herded through algorithmic coursework with minimal human interaction. The faculty, increasingly adjunct or contract-based, become roboworkers, ghosting in and out of online discussion boards, often managing hundreds of students with little support. And behind it all stands the robocollege—a machine optimized not for education, but for profit.

The Rise of Robocolleges

The rapid growth of online-only education has introduced a new breed of institutions: for-profit, non-profit, secular, and religious, all sharing a similar DNA. Among the most prominent are Southern New Hampshire University, Grand Canyon University, Liberty University Online, University of Maryland Global Campus, Purdue University Global, Walden University, Capella University, Colorado Tech, and the rebranded former for-profits now operating under public university names, like University of Phoenix and University of Arizona Global Campus.

These robocolleges promise convenience and career readiness. In practice, they churn out thousands of credentials in fields like education, healthcare, business, and public administration—often leaving behind hundreds of billions of dollars in student loan debt.

The Robocollege Model is defined by:

• Automation Over Education

• Aggressive Marketing and Recruitment

• High Tuition with Low Return

• Shallow Curricula and Limited Academic Support

• Poor Job Placement and Overburdened Students

These institutions optimize for profit and political protection, not pedagogy. Many align themselves with right-wing agendas, blending Christian nationalism with capitalist pragmatism, while marketing themselves as the moral antidote to “woke” education.

Trump’s War on Higher Ed and DEI

Former President Donald Trump didn’t just attack political rivals—he waged an ideological war against higher education itself. Under his administration and continuing through his influence, the right has cast universities as hotbeds of liberal indoctrination, cultural decay, and bureaucratic excess. Public universities and their faculties have been relentlessly vilified as enemies of “real America.”

Central to Trump’s campaign was the targeting of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives. Executive orders banned federally funded diversity training, and right-wing media amplified the narrative that DEI was a form of “reverse racism” and leftist brainwashing. That playbook has since been adopted by Republican governors and legislatures across the country, leading to:

• Defunding DEI Offices: Entire departments dedicated to equity have been dismantled in states like Florida and Texas.

• Censorship of Curriculum: Academic freedom is under siege as laws restrict the teaching of race, gender, and American history.

• Chilling Effects on Faculty: Scholars of color, queer faculty, and those doing critical theory face retaliation, termination, or self-censorship.

• Hostile Campus Environments: Students in marginalized groups are increasingly isolated, unsupported, and surveilled.

This culture war is not simply rhetorical—it’s institutional. It weakens public confidence in higher education, strips protections for vulnerable communities, and drives talent out of teaching and research. It also feeds directly into the robocollege model, which offers a sanitized, uncritical, and commodified version of education to replace the messy, vital work of civic learning and self-reflection.

The Debt Trap and Student Loan Servitude

Today, more than 45 million Americans are trapped in a cycle of student loan debt servitude, collectively owing over $1.7 trillion. Robocolleges have played a central role in inflating this debt by promising career transformation and delivering questionable outcomes.

Debt has become a silent form of social control—disabling an entire generation’s ability to invest, build, or dissent.

• Delayed Life Milestones

• Psychological Toll

• Stalled Economic Mobility

This is not just a personal burden—it is the product of decades of deregulation, privatization, and a bipartisan consensus that treats education as a private good rather than a public right.

The Dismantling of the U.S. Department of Education

Over time, and especially under Trump-aligned officials like Betsy DeVos, the U.S. Department of Education has been hollowed out, repurposed to protect predatory institutions rather than students. Key actions include:

• Rolling Back Protections for borrowers defrauded by for-profit colleges.

• Weakening Oversight of accreditation and accountability metrics.

• Empowering Loan Servicers to act with impunity.

• Undermining Public Education in favor of vouchers, charters, and online alternatives.

The result? Robocolleges and their corporate allies are given free rein to exploit. Students are caught in the machinery. And the very institution charged with protecting educational integrity has been turned into a clearinghouse for deregulated profiteering.

Reclaiming the Idea of Higher Education

This is where we are: in a Digital Dark Age where myths drive markets, and education has become a shell of its democratic promise. But all is not lost.

Resistance lives—in underfunded community colleges, independent media, academic unions, student debt collectives, and grassroots movements that refuse to accept the commodification of learning.

What’s needed now is not another tech “solution” or rebranding campaign. We need a recommitment to education as a public good. That means:

• Rebuilding and funding public universities

• Protecting academic freedom and DEI efforts

• Canceling student debt and regulating private actors

• Restoring the Department of Education as a tool for justice

• Rethinking accreditation, equity, and access through a democratic lens

Because if we do not act now—if we do not call the Digital Dark Ages by name—we may soon forget what truth, justice, and education ever meant.

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For-Profit College Corporation Perdoceo Gave Your Tax Dollars to Trump Inaugural Committee (David Halperin)

A new report filed with the Federal Election Commission shows that the troubled for-profit college operation Perdoceo Education Corp. donated $50,000 to the 2025 Trump-Vance Inaugural Committee. Almost all of Perdoceo’s revenue comes from U.S. taxpayers.

The report filed this week by the Trump committee lists, among hundreds of other gifts from corporations and individuals, a $50,000 donation from “CEC Educational Services,” which is the name of a Perdoceo subsidiary, and gives the donor address as the Schaumberg, Illinois, location of Perdoceo’s corporate offices.

The Trump inaugural committee raised $239 million, more than doubling the record-breaking amount raised by the Trump committee for the 2017 inauguration.

As the New York Times noted, presidential inaugurations, even with all the glitzy balls and other events, “have never cost anything near roughly a quarter-billion dollars, and the amount raised by the committee will resurface questions about where any leftover funds might go.” Trump associates have suggested it could be spent on other Trump projects, including a presidential library.

The Times speculated that the high volume of gifts was “driven by corporate America’s eagerness to win the president’s favor.”

Perdoceo, whose stock is publicly traded, is one corporation that would be motivated to win the transactional Trump’s favor. It is almost entirely dependent on federal government largesse. The two mostly online colleges it operates — American Intercontinental University and Colorado Technical University — have at times received as much as 97 percent of their revenue from taxpayer dollars in the form of federal student grants and loans; in the most recent reported year 83 percent came from the U.S. Department of Education alone, plus more from the departments of defense and veterans affairs.

That means, effectively, that almost all of the gift that Perdoceo made to curry favor with Trump was paid for by American taxpayers.

The donation is also consistent with Perdoceo CEO Todd Nelson’s past support for Republican politicians. More importantly, it reflects Perdoceo’s continuing need to have the federal government keep the money flowing and look the other way while the company’s schools, which have repeatedly faced law enforcement actions, offer low-quality, high-priced programs that leave many students deep in debt and without the career advancement they sought.

As Republic Report has chronicled for over a decade, Perdoceo has been one of the worst actors in all of for-profit higher education, taking in billions of dollars from taxpayers for student grants and loans while repeatedly engaging in predatory abuses.

Like Donald Trump’s own fraudulent Trump University, Perdoceo has faced multiple law enforcement investigations for predatory conduct.

In 2019, the company entered into a $494 million settlement with 48 state attorneys general, plus the District of Columbia, over allegations that it engaged in widespread deceptive practices against students.

Later that same year, Perdoceo agreed to pay $30 million to settle charges brought by the Federal Trade Commission that its schools have recruited students through deceptive third-party lead generation operations. In each case, the company did not admit guilt.

More recently, Perdoceo employees told media outlets USA Today and Capitol Forum, as well as Republic Report, that company recruiters continued to feel pressure to make misleading sales pitches and to enroll low-income people into programs that aren’t strong enough to help them succeed. Some of those former employees also spoke with federal investigators.

USA Today reported in 2022 that the U.S. Department of Education, in December 2021, requested information from Perdoceo; the Department also asked Perdoceo to retain records regarding student recruiting, marketing, financial aid practices, and more. Perdoceo confirmed the probe, while seeming to minimize its significance, in a February 2022 SEC filing. Perdoceo also acknowledged in May 2022 that it received a request for documents and information from the U.S. Justice Department.

The Department of Education provided AIU and CTU with more than $551 million in student grants and loans in the 2022-23 school year, the most recent year that was reported. A bachelor’s degree from CTU is priced at about $66,000.

But data released by the Department in 2023 show that Perdoceo’s two schools, AIU and CTU, deliver poor results for students, with low graduation rates and graduate incomes and high levels of student debt.

Before joining Perdoceo, company CEO Todd Nelson ran two of the other biggest for-profit colleges operations: the University of Phoenix and now-demised Education Management Corp. Both of those chains, like Perdoceo, ran into major law enforcement issues because of deceptive recruiting practices and other abuses that occurred on Nelson’s watch.

The Biden Department of Education never proceeded with an enforcement action to penalize Perdoceo or take away its federal aid. But it did issue a series of regulations that would make it more difficult for that company and others to engage in predatory practices going forward. The Trump administration, whose previous incarnation coddled predatory schools, and whose current incarnation has gutted the Department of Education and its accountability efforts, is likely to do nothing while Nelson’s schools keeping enrolling students, with taxpayer dollars, in substandard education programs.

$50,000 may not be a lot of money to Perdoceo or its CEO, but it’s a lot of money to each of the thousands of students across the country who are in debt to Perdoceo for multiples of that amount. Perdoceo’s donation to Trump’s inauguration, using your money, can only reinforce the company’s entitlement and impunity.

It’s wrong when a company can take money from students and taxpayers and use it curry favor with a president whose team is shutting down higher education enforcement efforts and aggressively seeking student loan repayments, even from borrowers who were deceived and abused by that company’s schools.

The donation from a supposed “education” company also sends a bad message to America’s students, because it celebrates the return to power of a twice-impeached, four-times-indicted, convicted felon and adjudged sexual assaulter who incited a murderous Capitol riot aimed at overthrowing a democratic election. Not a good civics lesson.

Perdoceo did not respond to a request for comment.

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

The Destruction of ED General Counsel: "It will be like the Wild West"

With the US Department of Education firing 85 of an estimated 95 lawyers in General Counsel, subprime colleges and online program managers will have a field day. According to one industry expert, it could be "like the Wild West," with no oversight over the buying and selling of schools. And that also means that the College Meltdown could get worse even faster than we imagined. The Higher Education Inquirer is already monitoring a number of potential sales, including the University of Phoenix. We are also expecting a number of schools to be insolvent in 2025, leaving students in a lurch, with little or no warning. 

 

Higher Education Inquirer continues to follow IPO/sale of University of Phoenix

On March 6, 2025, Apollo and Vistria publicly announced a possible IPO or sale of the University of Phoenix.  These companies have been trying to sell the University of Phoenix since 2021, but there have been no takers. The owners claim the school is worth $1.5B to $1.7B, but we (and experts we know) are skeptical, given the financials we have seen so far. The University of Phoenix was previously on sale for about $500M-$700M but the University of Arkansas System, the State of Idaho, and apparently other colleges declined the offers. 

The University of Phoenix offers subprime education to folks, historically targeting servicemembers, veterans, and people of color. While some students may profit from these robocollege credentials, one wonders what these workers actually learn. The current student-teacher ratio at the University of Phoenix, according to the US Department of Education, is 132 to 1.   

The University of Phoenix has faced a number of scandals, sometimes getting away with no penalty, and other times paying large fines.  

In 2023 we made a Freedom of Action (FOIA) request to the US Department of Education (ED) to get Phoenix's most recent audited financials. In March 2025, more than 20 months later, we were provided with a 35-page report, audited by Deloitte, with numbers from 2021 and 2022. 

HEI has filed a number of FOIAs with ED and discovered that almost 1 million former University of Phoenix students owe approximately $21.6 Billion in student loan debt. In addition, about 19,000 borrowers have had their student loans forgiven as a result of the Sweet v Cardona Borrower Defense to Repayment case.  According to ED FOIA 23-02373-F, more than 73,000 have filed fraud claims against the school. 

This month the Higher Education Inquirer followed up with a Freedom of Information request with the ED to obtain more up-to-date financial numbers for the University of Phoenix. We hope they will be responsive and timely enough to get the word out to the public.