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In a world of climate crisis, student debt, and endless consumption, there’s a quiet revolution available to young people: walk more, buy less. It sounds simple—because it is—but the impact can be profound.
Most college students and recent grads don’t need to be reminded about environmental collapse. You’ve grown up amid wildfires, extreme weather, and warnings about rising seas. But while corporations and billionaires pump out pollution and plastic, you’re often told that the burden to fix things falls on your shoulders. You recycle. You switch off lights. You carry a tote bag. Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.
That’s because systemic change is slow and hard. But two actions—walking and not shopping—have the power to disrupt entire systems of waste and exploitation.
In car-dominated societies like the U.S., walking is often dismissed as inconvenient or inefficient. But for those who can safely walk, it is an act of environmental resistance. Cars consume fossil fuels, require destructive mining for materials, and spew emissions into the air. Even electric vehicles rely on rare earth metals, large batteries, and energy grids that still burn coal and gas.
Every mile you walk instead of drive avoids carbon pollution. Every pair of shoes worn out instead of tires is a win. Walking also builds local awareness. You notice what’s happening on your streets—who’s struggling, who’s thriving, which spaces are neglected, and where nature is still hanging on. You become part of your community rather than just passing through it.
Walking saves money, improves health, and takes power away from oil companies and car-dependent infrastructure. That’s not just healthy—it’s revolutionary.
You’ve probably heard the phrase “vote with your wallet.” But what if not spending is the more powerful vote?
Our entire economy is built around constant consumption. Fast fashion, tech upgrades, cheap furniture, endless online shopping—this isn’t just bad for your bank account. It’s bad for the planet. Every product you buy took raw materials, labor (often exploited), and energy to produce, ship, and store. The less we consume, the less destruction we support.
Here’s the thing: corporations want you to feel like you’re missing out if you don’t buy the newest thing. Social media and marketing are built to trigger that FOMO. But refusing to participate—living simply, creatively, and consciously—is one of the boldest stands you can take.
You don’t have to live like a monk. But delaying gratification, fixing what you already own, swapping clothes with friends, using the library, and just sitting with your discomfort instead of numbing it with shopping—these are environmental acts. They’re also acts of freedom.
As a young person, you’re probably juggling rent, school loans, gig jobs, and anxiety about the future. You may feel powerless. But walking and cutting back on shopping are low-cost, high-impact moves. They don’t require wealth. They don’t require perfection. They’re daily choices that build awareness and build community.
By walking and refusing overconsumption, you model an alternative future—one not built on endless growth, but on balance, care, and intentional living.
These small acts won’t fix everything. But they will help you live in closer alignment with your values. And they send a clear message: We’re not buying the lies anymore.
Caring for the environment isn’t about being perfect. It’s about shifting culture. It’s about resisting a system that treats the Earth—and our lives—as disposable.
So walk when you can. Buy less than you think you need. Look around. Notice what matters. And know that in these small acts, you’re part of something bigger.
Your steps count. Your refusal counts. Your care counts.
Higher Education Inquirer is committed to radical truth-telling and student advocacy in an era of climate chaos and corporate capture.


Liberty University, one of the largest Christian universities in the United States, has built an educational empire by promoting conservative values and offering flexible online degree programs to hundreds of thousands of students. But behind the pious branding and patriotic marketing lies a troubling pattern: Liberty University Online has become a master’s degree debt factory, churning out credentials of questionable value while generating billions in student loan debt.
Founded in 1971 by televangelist Jerry Falwell Sr., Liberty University was created to train “Champions for Christ.” In the 2000s, the school found new life through online education, transforming from a small evangelical college into a mega-university with nearly 95,000 online students, the vast majority of them enrolled in nontraditional and graduate programs.
By leveraging aggressive digital marketing, religious appeals, and promises of career advancement, Liberty has positioned itself as a go-to destination for working adults and military veterans seeking master’s degrees. But this rapid expansion has not come without costs — especially for the students who enroll.
Though technically a nonprofit, Liberty University operates with many of the same profit-driven incentives as for-profit colleges. Its online programs generate massive revenues — an estimated $1 billion annually — thanks in large part to federal student aid programs. Students are encouraged to take on loans to pay for master’s degrees in education, counseling, business, and theology, among other fields. Many of these programs are offered in accelerated formats that cater to working adults but often lack the rigor, support, or job placement outcomes associated with traditional graduate schools.
Federal data shows that many Liberty students, especially graduate students, take on substantial debt. According to the U.S. Department of Education’s College Scorecard, the median graduate student debt at Liberty can range from $40,000 to more than $70,000, depending on the program. Meanwhile, the return on investment is often dubious, with low median earnings and high rates of student loan forbearance or default.
Liberty’s marketing strategy is finely tuned to appeal to Christian conservatives, homeschoolers, veterans, and working parents. By framing education as a moral and patriotic duty, Liberty convinces students that enrolling in an online master’s program is both a personal and spiritual investment. Testimonials of “calling” and “purpose” are common, but the financial realities can be harsh.
Many students report feeling misled by promises of job readiness or licensure, especially in education and counseling fields, where state licensing requirements can differ dramatically from what Liberty prepares students for. Others cite inadequate academic support and difficulties transferring credits.
The university spends heavily on recruitment and retention, often at the expense of student services and academic quality.
Liberty University benefits from minimal federal scrutiny compared to for-profit schools, largely because of its nonprofit status and political connections. The institution maintains close ties to conservative lawmakers and was a vocal supporter of the Trump administration, which rolled back regulations on higher education accountability.
Despite a series of internal scandals — including financial mismanagement, sexual misconduct cover-ups, and leadership instability following the resignation of Jerry Falwell Jr. — Liberty has continued to expand its online presence. Its graduate programs, particularly in education and counseling, remain cash cows that draw in federal loan dollars with few checks on student outcomes.
The story of Liberty University Online is not just about one school. It reflects a broader trend in American higher education: the merging of religion, capitalism, and credential inflation. As more employers demand advanced degrees for mid-level jobs, and as traditional institutions struggle to adapt, schools like Liberty have seized the opportunity to market hope — even if it comes at a high cost.
For students of faith seeking upward mobility, Liberty promises a path to both spiritual and professional fulfillment. But for many, the result is a diploma accompanied by tens of thousands in debt and limited economic return. The moral reckoning may not be just for Liberty University, but for the policymakers and accreditors who continue to enable this lucrative cycle of debt and disillusionment.
The Higher Education Inquirer will continue to investigate Liberty University Online and similar institutions as part of our ongoing series on higher education debt, inequality, and regulatory failure.

The Higher Education Inquirer’s viewership continues to grow. In the last week, we have had more than 30,000 views, and that’s without SEO help. Some of the content in HEI may be found elsewhere, but our in-depth historical and sociological analysis is rare for a blog or any other news source. HEI also relies on scholars and activists for our outstanding content. Thank you, Henry Giroux, Gary Roth, and Bryan Alexander for allowing us to post your work. And thanks to LACCD Whistleblower and Michael S. Hainline for your investigative exposes. If you missed any of their articles, please click on their links. FYI: The Higher Education Inquirer archive also includes more than 700 articles and videos. Please check them out and let us know what you think. We want to hear from all sides of the College Meltdown.

In a sector under constant strain, Campus.edu is being heralded by some as the future of community college—and by others as a slick repackaging of the troubled for-profit college model. What many don’t realize is that before it became Campus.edu, the company was known as MTI College, a private, for-profit trade school based in Sacramento, California.
Campus.edu rebranded in 2020 under tech entrepreneur Tade Oyerinde, is backed by nearly $100 million in venture capital. Campus now markets itself as a tech-powered alternative to traditional community colleges—and a lifeline for students underserved by conventional higher ed.
The rebranding, however, raises red flags. While Campus.edu pitches a student-first mission with attractive promises—zero-cost tuition, free laptops, elite educators—the model has echoes of the troubled for-profit sector, with privatization, outsourcing, and digital-first delivery taking precedence over public accountability and academic governance.
Campus.edu markets itself with a clean, six-step path to success. The pitch is aspirational, accessible, and designed to appeal to working-class students, first-generation college-goers, and those shut out of elite institutions. Here’s what the company promises:
Straightforward Application – A simple application process, followed by matching with an admissions advisor who helps identify a student’s purpose and educational fit.
Tech for Those Who Need It – A free laptop and Wi-Fi access for students who lack them, ensuring digital inclusion.
Personal Success Coach – Each student is assigned a personal success coach, offering free tutoring, career advising, and 24/7 access to wellness services.
Elite Educators – Courses are taught live via Zoom by faculty who also teach at top universities like Stanford and Columbia.
Enduring Support – Whether transferring to a four-year college or entering the workforce, Campus promises help with building skills and networks.
More Learning, Less Debt – For Pell Grant-eligible students, Campus markets its programs as costing nothing out-of-pocket, with some students completing degrees debt-free.
It’s a compelling narrative—combining social mobility, digital access, and educational prestige into a neat online package.
Campus.edu did not rise out of nowhere. It emerged from the bones of MTI College, a long-running, accredited for-profit vocational school. MTI offered hands-on training in legal, IT, cosmetology, and health fields—typical offerings in the for-profit world. The purchase and transformation of MTI into Campus.edu allowed Oyerinde to retain accreditation, avoiding the long and uncertain process of seeking approval for a brand-new college.
This kind of maneuver—buying a for-profit and relaunching it under a new brand—is not new. We’ve seen similar strategies with Kaplan (now Purdue Global), Ashford (now the University of Arizona Global Campus), and Grand Canyon University. What makes Campus.edu unique is the degree to which it blends Silicon Valley aesthetics with the structural DNA of a for-profit college.
Campus.edu boasts high engagement and satisfaction, but as of now, no independent data on student completion, debt outcomes, or long-term career impact is publicly available. The company remains in its early stages, with aggressive growth goals and millions in investor backing—but little regulatory scrutiny.
With investors like Sam Altman (OpenAI), Jason Citron (Discord), and Bloomberg Beta, the pressure to scale is intense. But scale can come at the expense of quality, especially when students are promised the moon.
Campus.edu is savvy. Its marketing strikes all the right notes: digital equity, economic mobility, mental health, and student empowerment. It presents itself as the antidote to everything wrong with higher education.
But as its past as MTI College shows, branding can obscure history. And as for-profit operators adapt to a new digital age, it’s essential to distinguish innovation from opportunism. Without transparency, regulation, and democratic oversight, models like Campus.edu could replicate the same old exploitation—with better user interfaces.
The stakes are high. For students already at the margins, a false promise can be more damaging than no promise at all.


[Image of AidVantage operations in Greenville, Texas. Note the barbed wire fence.]
The recent decision to have the Small Business Administration (SBA) take over the federal student loan portfolio has sent shockwaves through the world of education finance. As the SBA — an agency traditionally focused on supporting small businesses — begins to manage a multi-billion dollar portfolio of student loans, borrowers, consumer protection advocates, and financial experts alike are left to question what this transition means for the future of loan servicing, borrower protections, and higher education financing.
At the heart of this shift is the role of Maximus AidVantage, one of the major student loan servicers handling federal loans. Maximus has already come under scrutiny for its inefficiency, poor customer service, and mishandling of crucial borrower programs, such as Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF) and Income-Driven Repayment (IDR) plans. The company’s track record has led to widespread frustration, with many borrowers reporting significant issues, including misinformation, lost paperwork, and mistakes that have placed them at risk of financial hardship.
Yet, despite these concerns, Maximus has maintained its position at the helm of federal student loan servicing. Its CEO, Bruce Caswell, has been compensated handsomely for overseeing the company’s role in this controversial space. According to recent financial reports, Caswell’s total compensation has included a base salary of over $1.3 million, with total compensation often exceeding $8 million when accounting for bonuses, stock options, and other forms of remuneration. This high pay, especially in light of the company’s poor performance in customer service and loan servicing, raises questions about the priorities of both the company and the federal government, which continues to entrust Maximus with managing the finances of millions of borrowers.
The most immediate concern surrounding the SBA’s takeover of student loan management is its lack of expertise in this field. The SBA’s core mission has been to assist small businesses, offering loan guarantees and financial support to promote economic growth. While it is well-equipped to manage business loans, the agency has no experience dealing with the unique and complex needs of student loan borrowers. Federal student loans involve intricate repayment plans, borrower protections, and specialized programs like PSLF, all of which require a deep understanding of the educational sector and the financial struggles of students and graduates.
Transferring such an important and complex responsibility to the SBA without a clear plan for adaptation could lead to mismanagement, inefficiencies, and disruptions for millions of borrowers. The SBA simply isn’t set up to handle issues like loan forgiveness, income-driven repayment plans, and the variety of special accommodations that are necessary for student borrowers. If the SBA isn’t adequately staffed or resourced to take on these new responsibilities, students could be left in the lurch, facing delays, confusion, and even errors in their loan servicing.
For those already dealing with the intricacies of federal student loans, this transition to the SBA is likely to create a significant amount of confusion. Student loan borrowers rely on clear communication, accurate account management, and timely assistance when navigating repayment plans. The Department of Education has long been the agency responsible for ensuring that these programs are managed effectively, but with the SBA taking over, borrowers may face new systems, new contacts, and, potentially, a lack of clarity about their loan status.
One of the biggest risks in this transition is the potential disruption of critical loan repayment programs, such as PSLF, which allows public service workers to have their loans forgiven after ten years of payments. These programs require careful management to ensure that borrowers meet the necessary qualifications. The SBA is not accustomed to handling such programs and may struggle to maintain the same level of efficiency and accuracy, especially if the agency does not prioritize dedicated support for student loan borrowers.
Perhaps the most concerning outcome of the SBA taking over student loans is the potential erosion of consumer protections. The Department of Education has a specific mandate to protect borrowers, which includes holding loan servicers accountable for mishandling accounts and ensuring transparency in loan servicing practices. The SBA, however, has never been tasked with such consumer-focused regulations, and its shift to managing student loans raises concerns that borrower rights might not be adequately enforced.
For example, the SBA may not have the resources or inclination to monitor loan servicers like Maximus closely, allowing them to continue engaging in deceptive practices without fear of regulatory repercussions. The agency might also be less likely to step in when borrowers face issues such as misapplied payments, incorrect information about forgiveness programs, or poorly managed accounts. With the SBA’s focus on business rather than consumer welfare, student loan borrowers may find themselves facing more hurdles without the protections that the Department of Education once provided.
Another pressing issue is the potential disruption of repayment and forgiveness programs under SBA oversight. Programs like Income-Driven Repayment (IDR), designed to help borrowers pay off their loans based on their income, require careful management and regular updates. Similarly, the Public Service Loan Forgiveness program is highly specific and requires rigorous tracking of borrowers’ payments and work history to ensure they qualify for forgiveness after ten years.
If the SBA is not adequately equipped to handle these specialized programs, borrowers might find themselves in a precarious position, especially if their loans are mismanaged or if they are denied forgiveness due to administrative errors. The confusion caused by the transition could delay or even derail borrowers’ efforts to achieve loan forgiveness, leaving them stuck with debt for longer than expected.
Amidst the uncertainty of this transition, Maximus continues to play a key role in servicing the federal student loan portfolio. Yet, despite its persistent failures in managing accounts and borrower relations, Maximus has remained highly profitable, with Bruce Caswell’s executive compensation reflecting this success in terms of revenue but not in terms of customer satisfaction.
Maximus’s reported $8 million in total compensation for Caswell, despite the company’s history of customer complaints, raises serious questions about priorities. While Maximus rakes in millions from servicing federal loans, borrowers are left to deal with the consequences of mistakes, misinformation, and poor service. In a system where the stakes are incredibly high for borrowers, this disparity between executive pay and customer service is concerning, especially in light of the SBA’s takeover, which promises more uncertainty.
Adding to the controversy, Maximus has also been involved in labor disputes with the Communications Workers of America (CWA), its workers’ union. These disputes, which have centered on issues such as wages, benefits, and working conditions, further complicate the company’s already tarnished reputation. Workers have accused Maximus of engaging in unfair labor practices and failing to adequately support employees who are tasked with assisting borrowers. If these labor disputes continue to affect employee morale and productivity, it could lead to even worse service for borrowers who are already dealing with a complicated and frustrating loan servicing process. The combination of poor customer service, labor unrest, and executive compensation that seems out of sync with the company’s performance paints a troubling picture for the future of student loan management under Maximus.
Adding to the turmoil surrounding the future of student loans is the growing effort by the U.S. government to reduce or even eliminate key student loan forgiveness programs like Public Service Loan Forgiveness (PSLF) and Income-Driven Repayment (IDR) plans. These programs were designed to provide crucial relief for borrowers working in public service or those struggling with debt relative to their income. However, recent reports suggest that the government may look to reduce eligibility for these programs, impose stricter requirements, or completely eliminate them altogether as part of broader fiscal policy adjustments.
The removal of or reductions to these programs would leave borrowers with fewer avenues to manage their debt, potentially increasing default rates and extending the time it takes for borrowers to repay their loans. For individuals in public service jobs or those facing financial hardship, these changes would have a devastating impact on their ability to achieve financial stability and pay down their student loans. If the SBA, with its lack of focus on education finance, inherits this responsibility without reinforcing these programs, borrowers might find themselves in a far worse position than ever before.
Furthermore, this reduction in borrower protections and streamlining of repayment options may also be part of a broader strategy to push more borrowers into private loan options, which could further exacerbate financial hardship for those who are already struggling. With private loans often carrying higher interest rates, less favorable repayment terms, and fewer options for deferral or forgiveness, such a shift would mark a significant pivot towards privatization, benefiting financial institutions while leaving borrowers with even fewer protections and much higher costs.
Many experts are beginning to question whether the government’s plans for overhauling student loan servicing are part of a larger agenda to move borrowers toward private loans. By reducing or eliminating federal loan protections, forgiveness programs, and income-driven repayment options, the government may be attempting to create a vacuum in which private lenders can step in and offer alternative (and likely more expensive) financing options.
This push toward privatization could significantly increase profits for private lenders while making it harder for borrowers to repay their loans. With private loans lacking many of the protections and flexible repayment options offered by federal loans, such a shift could result in higher default rates and greater financial instability for borrowers, particularly for those with already high debt levels.
The transition of student loan servicing to the Small Business Administration represents a significant shift in the federal student loan system, one that could lead to inefficiencies, confusion, and a reduction in protections for borrowers. With agencies like Maximus AidVantage continuing to profit from loan servicing despite failing borrowers, ongoing labor disputes, and a focus on executive compensation over customer service, and the SBA stepping into a complex arena with limited experience, the future of student loan servicing seems fraught with challenges.
The push to reduce or eliminate key student loan forgiveness programs like PSLF and IDR only adds to the uncertainty, leaving millions of borrowers facing a potentially more difficult future. Moreover, the possibility of moving consumers toward private loans with fewer protections and harsher terms would deepen the financial struggles of many borrowers. This move underscores the importance of effective oversight and the need for federal agencies to prioritize the well-being of borrowers over financial interests. The student loan system should be about more than just revenue generation — it should be about supporting borrowers and ensuring that they can achieve financial freedom, not be left trapped in a cycle of debt and frustration. Without proper management, this new era of student loan servicing risks deepening the crisis for millions of Americans who are already struggling to keep up with their education-related debts.