What Education Savings Accounts Could Mean for the Future of Online Learning

“With ESAs, it makes it a lot easier for parents to homeschool their children… That should give edtech companies all that much more incentive to develop curricula to meet the needs and interests of these children.”

Samuel E. Abrams, Director of the International Partnership for the Study of Educational Privatization, National Education Policy Center at the University of Colorado, Boulder

Education savings accounts (ESAs) are reshaping the landscape of K-12 education, granting parents greater flexibility in directing public education funds toward homeschooling, online curricula, and learning pods. As a new report set to be released by the National Education Policy Center highlights, ESAs are becoming a significant force in the rise of alternative education models—but they also raise pressing concerns about accountability.

Since the first statewide ESA programs launched in 2021, adoption has accelerated across politically conservative states, with at least 17 states implementing some form of ESA policy by 2025. Enabled by this public funding shift, a growing number of families are withdrawing from traditional public schools and turning to online learning platforms and micro-educational environments to instruct their children. This decentralization of K-12 education is transforming the dynamics of curriculum delivery, teacher roles, and what constitutes a “school” at all.

But as the ecosystem fragments, a new challenge emerges: oversight. How will states ensure that ESA funds are used effectively and equitably? What systems exist—or need to be built—to vet the quality of online curricula and small-scale learning environments that operate outside conventional regulatory frameworks?

To better understand the potential future of ESAs and their implications for online education, we spoke with Samuel E. Abrams, a leading researcher at the National Education Policy Center and director of its International Partnership for the Study of Educational Privatization. Abrams brings a comparative and policy-focused lens to the conversation, offering valuable insight into the promise—and potential pitfalls—of this rapidly expanding education model.

Samuel E. Abrams is the director of NEPC’s International Partnership for the Study of Educational Privatization (IPSEP), launched in 2024, and the author of “Education and the Commercial Mindset” (Harvard University Press, 2016). In addition, he has written on education policy for The New Republic, The Los Angeles Times, Le Monde, and Columbia Journalism Review, among other publications. From 2015 to 2024, he served as the director of the National Center for the Study of Privatization in Education at Teachers College, Columbia University.

In 2022-23, he served as a Fulbright visiting professor at the University of Turku in Finland, where he remains a visiting scholar. For his advancement of the understanding of Finnish education in the United States, he was knighted by the Finnish government in 2012. Abrams was previously a high school history teacher for 18 years. He earned his BA, MA, and PhD from Columbia.

In just a few years, Education Savings Accounts have moved from policy fringe to political centerpiece in several states. Starting with New Hampshire in 2021, ESA programs have since expanded to West Virginia, Arizona, Utah, Iowa, Florida, and a growing list of others—17 states in total by 2025. These programs offer families public dollars, often between $7,000 and $10,000 per child, to spend on private education services of their choosing.

While the political motivations behind these policies vary, their practical effect is remarkably consistent: more families are exiting traditional public schools and setting up homeschool routines, microschools, and learning pods. This shift has given rise to a distinctly modern educational model—one that blends parent autonomy with digital instruction, often outside the reach of any formal school system.

Samuel Abrams, a leading scholar at the National Education Policy Center, observes that in these small-scale settings, online platforms have become essential tools. “If you’re in a pod with just one teacher and children of varying ages,” he explains, “you’re going to need online tools to deliver lessons across subjects and grade levels.” That instructional gap has created new opportunities for edtech companies, which are now adapting products to serve this fast-growing user base.

Yet with customization comes inconsistency. Families with access to high-quality content, time, and digital fluency may thrive in this environment. Others may end up with a patchwork of apps and platforms that lack cohesion or rigor. Without any centralized framework to evaluate what’s being taught, the range of experiences under ESA-funded education is widening, and the stakes are highest for students whose parents lack time or experience to vet instructional quality themselves.

This new era of educational freedom may open doors for some—but it also introduces significant variability in outcomes. And with that variability comes the urgent question: who, if anyone, is ensuring that public dollars are buying a sound education?

The shift from public schooling to ESA-funded alternatives has sparked a new accountability dilemma: how can states ensure that taxpayer dollars are funding a legitimate education when oversight mechanisms are limited, inconsistent, or entirely absent?

In the traditional public system, schools are bound by district policies, standardized testing requirements, and state curriculum standards. Even private schools—while subject to far less regulation—are typically required to register with state education departments and comply with some baseline reporting requirements. But that regulatory scaffolding quickly disappears in the world of homeschooling, learning pods, and microschools.

“It’s already difficult enough to monitor private schools,” Abrams notes. “Once you move into pods and homeschooling, the task becomes exponentially harder.” Many ESA programs do not mandate a uniform vetting process for vendors or online content. In some cases, parents are reimbursed for expenses without any rigorous review of what was taught or whether learning objectives were met.

The problem is not just the absence of oversight—it’s the scale and diversity of the educational models now eligible for public funding. Some parents use ESA dollars for structured, high-quality virtual academies or curricula aligned to national standards. Others may piece together loosely organized, ideologically driven, or even commercially dubious materials. With so many individualized paths, states are left with little visibility into what their investments are actually producing.

Sampling and audit-based accountability models—where only a portion of ESA users are reviewed—have been proposed, but even these approaches raise concerns about fairness, capacity, and effectiveness. And unlike public school systems that report aggregate performance data, ESA-supported education is often invisible to the public, making it difficult to assess whether these programs are advancing student learning or simply funding private preferences.

The stakes are especially high for online platforms. As ESA dollars flow into the edtech space, the risk of predatory or low-quality providers entering the market increases. Without consistent benchmarks or independent evaluations, families may struggle to distinguish between substantive education and superficial engagement. And for students without strong parental guidance or resources, the result could be a publicly funded education that is far less than what they would have received in a traditional school.

In short, the decentralization that makes ESAs attractive also creates blind spots. Without a strategy to monitor quality and outcomes, the system may inadvertently fund inequity and inefficacy—undermining the very goal of expanding educational opportunity.

International voucher systems show that school choice can work—when coupled with strong public safeguards. In countries like the Netherlands and Sweden, private schools that receive public funding must follow national curricula, hire credentialed teachers, and comply with nondiscrimination laws. “In European countries, you can use public money for private education,” explains Abrams. “But the schools have to meet national standards. The teachers have to be qualified, and no one can be excluded based on identity.”

Even Chile, once known for its hands-off voucher model, has introduced reforms to rein in inequality and improve transparency. In contrast, the U.S. approach—especially under the current administration—has leaned heavily into deregulation and decentralization.

In 2025, President Trump proposed a nationwide ESA expansion through a federal tax credit program. The plan would allow individuals and corporations to redirect up to $5,000, or 10 percent of their adjusted gross income, to tuition scholarship funds—a potential $10 billion program serving up to one million students. Abrams points out that this proposal, while popular among advocates of parental choice, “is likely to function in a very laissez-faire environment,” with few guardrails on how the money is spent or what kind of education it supports.

This federal push is part of a broader philosophical shift. A recent executive order from the administration outlines plans to close the U.S. Department of Education, citing a desire to return authority to states and families. It also bars federal funding for any programs that promote “equity ideology” or “gender ideology,” signaling a significant rollback of federal oversight in education policy and civil rights protections.

Abrams draws a sharp comparison: “In the Netherlands, if a private school takes public funds, it has to teach a national curriculum and treat all students equally. Here, we’re seeing public funds flow to institutions that face virtually no oversight—and that, in many cases, can legally discriminate.”

The risk, he warns, is a fragmented system where educational quality and access depend almost entirely on where a child lives and how much support their family can provide. Without a federal framework to ensure basic standards, states are left to determine their own rules—or none at all.

As U.S. policymakers consider expanding ESAs at both the state and federal levels, international models offer useful reference points. Countries with longstanding voucher systems have generally paired public funding with clear regulatory frameworks that set expectations for educational quality, equity, and transparency.

While the U.S. context differs in its governance structure and political dynamics, these examples illustrate that school choice policies can be designed to balance flexibility with accountability. Whether or not federal and state leaders choose to adopt similar standards will likely shape how ESAs impact educational access and outcomes in the years ahead.

As Education Savings Accounts continue to expand, they are redefining the boundaries of public education—offering families more control, enabling alternative learning models, and accelerating the use of digital instruction. For many, these changes reflect long-sought goals: customized learning, reduced bureaucracy, and greater parental agency. But with this transformation comes the critical task of ensuring that public funds are spent effectively, and that all students—regardless of background—receive a quality education.

Policymakers face a complex balancing act. On one side is the opportunity to support innovation: online platforms that adapt to different learning needs, microschools that foster tight-knit communities, and tools that allow students to move at their own pace. On the other side lies the need for oversight—systems that verify educational outcomes, protect students’ rights, and prevent the misuse of taxpayer dollars.

Abrams suggests one possible approach: limited but strategic monitoring. “It’s extremely difficult, if not impossible, to fully oversee homeschooling or pods,” he notes. “But there are ways to implement sampling methods or baseline expectations that give states some visibility into what’s happening.” These could include periodic audits, learning assessments, or basic curricular reviews to ensure minimum standards are met.

Technology companies also have a role to play. By developing tools that align with learning benchmarks, track progress, and offer transparent reporting, edtech providers can help bridge the gap between flexibility and accountability—particularly in decentralized environments.

Ultimately, the long-term success of ESA programs will hinge not just on their popularity, but on their structure. As states and the federal government continue to shape the rules of engagement, the challenge is not whether to support innovation, but how to do so responsibly. Crafting policies that uphold both autonomy and accountability may be the key to ensuring these new models enhance, rather than undermine, the promise of public education.