Students Paid Thousands for a Caltech Boot Camp. Caltech Didn’t Teach It.

Raymond Sewer said he had good reason to believe that the California Institute of Technology would be deeply involved in the cloud computing “boot camp.”

Caltech’s website touted the online program, and the school’s orange logo appeared on the promised certificates of completion.

“I was just like, ‘Ah, man, this has got to be legit,’” said Sewer, 46, who works in Denver and enrolled in the $9,000 program to try to leave the mortgage industry.

But after Sewer signed up, he said that Caltech was almost nowhere to be found. Sewer said his primary instructor, who sometimes vanished during class sessions, lived in Mississippi, not Southern California. A course facilitator, he said, was in India. Neither had any meaningful ties to Caltech, which Sewer had known as an academic powerhouse and a backdrop of the sitcom “The Big Bang Theory.”

The university, he learned, had largely outsourced the program to a company called Simplilearn.

“It was just a bunch of bogus,” Sewer scoffed in an interview. “They just wanted our money.”

Caltech, a private university in Pasadena, is a highly selective school, but some of its online programs make it merely part of the crowd. Colleges across the country are routinely offering online, nondegree-granting programs that they tout as avenues to offer more educational opportunities to broader audiences. But the programs are largely unregulated and may not feature university faculty members or their curricula.

A spokesperson for Caltech, Shayna Chabner, said the university viewed its online programs as “a way that we can bring value” and expertise to the ideal of lifelong learning. And Simplilearn’s chief marketing officer, Mark Moran, said the company’s programs “help thousands of professionals advance their careers.”

Other online programs have also faced recent pressure. In a June report, California’s state auditor faulted the University of California system for insufficient oversight of outside firms involved in online education. And Minnesota recently passed legislation to limit the ties of its public universities to online program managers.

Government officials and researchers have said the tactics used by many universities and their corporate partners can be especially harmful to low-income students, who sometimes look to such programs as cost- and time-efficient ways to earn an educational credential.

At least 600 colleges and universities in the United States have used online-program management companies, according to data compiled by the market research firm ListEdTech. More than one-third of public, four-year-or-above universities have turned to such companies, the analysis found, as branded training programs help schools shore up budgets.

In addition to ListEdTech’s data, The New York Times relied on interviews and examined advertising materials, course communications, private correspondence, court filings and other public records to report this article.

Although some universities have begun to rethink their approaches, colleges can earn several thousand dollars for each enrolled student, estimated to add up to hundreds of millions of dollars a year across the industry.

At least some of those students became deeply disillusioned.

Elva Lopez was online in 2020 and saw a pop-up advertisement for a Caltech-branded cybersecurity program, according to a class-action lawsuit that she filed last year that accused the university and Simplilearn of violating consumer-protection laws.

After requesting more information, she received an email from an admissions adviser whose address matched Caltech’s in Pasadena. She was admitted and arranged for $14,000 in loans.

Lopez, according to a court filing, soon learned that one of her instructors was not a Caltech professor but a recently minted graduate of the same cybersecurity program.

Strong Sales Tactics

Few American universities have the influence of Caltech, which manages the Jet Propulsion Laboratory for NASA. The university trumpets 46 Nobel laureates in its ranks, and 110 fellows of the prestigious American Academy of Arts and Sciences. In at least seven consecutive years, it has reported at least $3 billion in revenue.

In May 2020, it announced a partnership with Fullstack Academy, which Simplilearn eventually acquired. A co-CEO at the company said then that the agreement would give students “access to some of the world’s brightest educators.” Chabner said this month that the university, having recognized that a contractor might be able to tap new audiences, had picked the company because of its track record with blue-chip corporations and universities.

One program said it could transform “beginners into cybersecurity professionals in as little as 12 weeks, teaching skills that qualify its participants for high-paying, in-demand tech jobs in California and beyond.”

Chabner, who declined to discuss details of Caltech’s financial arrangements with Simplilearn, said the university had about 50 distinct online course titles but that only eight were associated with the company. About 500 people a year participate in the Simplilearn programs, she said.

The company has used high-pressure sales tactics.

Students described calls that dangled time-conditioned discounts with a sense of pushiness and urgency. And some students said the calls leaned on the majesty of Caltech.

The sooner they enrolled, they were told, the sooner they would be on their way to better lives. Caltech’s name, they acknowledged, encouraged less due diligence.

Austin Barnes, who recalled the sales pitches starting minutes after he requested more information, expected that Caltech personnel would be involved.

“I thought it would be a Caltech professor, 100%, or maybe just somebody affiliated with the faculty: an adjunct professor, maybe a Ph.D. student, even a grad student prepping for their Ph.D. candidacy,” said Barnes, 34, who lives in Parker, Colorado, and has a master’s degree from the University of Northern Colorado.

But Barnes and other students sometimes found instructors who they said lacked sterling academic pedigrees and would race through presentations before vanishing for long stretches of class. Sessions were canceled for suspicious reasons; in one instance, after their instructor cited weather trouble, students checked conditions in Mississippi and discovered that it was sunny there.

The situation was not much better when classes convened, and students said they worked through a curriculum that they thought had little depth. Some students recalled finding similar materials elsewhere online and said they received scant career counseling.

Barnes, who paid $10,000, was unsure of whether the program was worth even $1,000. Sewer put it a different way as he lamented how little the program had helped his career: “They threw icing on a cornbread muffin and called it a cupcake.”

Chabner said students such as Barnes and Sewer had experienced “really isolated events” that the university did not believe were “reflective of the quality of the program.”

She would not discuss individual instructors. But she acknowledged that Caltech, which sometimes arranged for refunds despite the time limits in Simplilearn’s published policies, had imposed new quality-control measures in recent months to “ensure that our expectations for instruction and the student experience are met.”

The university, Chabner said, was involved in vetting and consulting with instructors, evaluating course material and “refining or enhancing that material when it’s needed,” and monitoring student feedback.

Simplilearn’s founder and CEO, Krishna Kumar, said in an email on Sept. 5 that he was “happy to get on a call” but did not respond to follow-up messages, including one that detailed the Times’ reporting. Instead, Moran, the chief marketing officer, sent a series of statements, including one that began: “We are proud of the digital-skills services we provide and fully stand behind the programs offered in collaboration” with Caltech.

Lopez’s litigation, which names Caltech and Simplilearn as defendants and relies on consumer-protection laws, involves only California residents who enrolled in the cybersecurity program. (Lopez was not always so critical: In an April 2021 email to a Fullstack employee who was processing certificates of completion, she wrote that the program had been “a wonderful experience.” Through her legal team, Lopez declined to be interviewed.)

A Burst of Investment

The federal government helped kick off the gold rush in 2011. The Education Department, under the Obama administration, loosened its guidance on revenue-sharing relationships between colleges and for-profit companies.

Hundreds of universities signed contracts with online-program management firms. In tax filings over the past decade, some of the country’s most prominent schools, including Georgetown University, the University of Southern California and Vanderbilt University, have at least once listed online-program companies among their five largest outside contractors.

Agreements involving public universities often called for schools to have some sway over programs offered in their names but fell short of granting them absolute control — or responsibility. The pandemic accelerated the trend, as universities scrambled to offer a buffet of opportunities.

“I think it’s a fundamental betrayal of students to slap the branding of an elite institution on, essentially, a cookie-cutter, for-profit boot camp,” said Aaron Ament, president of the National Student Legal Defense Network, which is helping represent Lopez.

Ament, who worked for the Education Department from 2013 to 2017, said he saw the practice as “one of the fastest-growing trends in higher education where there is little to no oversight.”

Investors took note. In 2021, Blackstone, a private equity giant, spent $250 million for a majority stake in Simplilearn.

At the time of the investment, Simplilearn, founded in 2010, had worked with fewer than 3 million students. In January 2023, Simplilearn said it had crossed the 5 million student threshold.

Nevertheless, there would be a contingent of frustrated customers.

To critics such as Ament, Lopez’s lawyer, the university has shortsightedly cheapened its storied brand.

“That’s what they have to ask themselves,” he said. “Is that worth it?”

c.2024 The New York Times Company. This article originally appeared in The New York Times.