Hypothesis: Since the GI Bill, college has been the singular first step toward middle-class life and upward mobility. A generation celebrated their first-in-family to wear the cap and gown. Now, many students take on massive, undefaultable loans to buy degrees they cannot afford, to qualify for jobs that may soon no longer exist.
The promise and the pivot
If you grew up in a house where no one before you had been to college, the idea of heading to a university was once the stuff of dreams. After World War II, the GI Bill transformed higher education from an elite club into a mainstream aspiration. Veterans came home to find their tuition paid and a stipend to live on, and they used that opportunity to vault their families into the middle class. In the decades that followed, a four‑year degree became a symbol of arrival: the moment when generations of sacrifice culminated in a cap and gown. Parents who had clawed their way up from farms and factory floors told their children that college was the surest ticket “out”; and for a rapidly industrializing America, this was largely correct. News headlines cheered the “first in the family” success stories and politicians from both parties urged teenagers to pursue university degrees, while leveraging their own “first in family” bona fides to win blue collar support; with it should be said, varying degrees of authenticity.
For a long time, the story made sense. A bachelor’s degree reliably led to a stable job and higher pay. The relationship felt almost linear: go to college, work hard, and move up in life. It was rare enough to set you apart, and tuition was relatively affordable. That combination of scarcity and accessibility made for a strong return on investment. When few people held degrees, a diploma served as a clear signal of diligence and a reliable proxy for intelligence. The term “college boy” entered popular use in the mid-century to describe a studious and well-mannered young man, often a little naïve about the rougher edges of the world he had left behind.
Today, that scarcity has faded. The number of colleges granting degrees has grown steadily over the past several decades. By the early 2020s, more than two million bachelor’s degrees were awarded in the United States each year, up from well under a million in the 1980s. Public universities expanded, private nonprofits multiplied, and for-profit schools surged before eventually contracting. With more institutions and more seats, higher education opened its doors wider to a broader cross-section of the population; again, not necessarily a bad thing. A generation ago, roughly one-third of the workforce held a bachelor’s degree; now, it is more than half. On a national level, that expansion reflects a well-educated population and a stronger economy. At the individual level, however, it means diminished rarity and a weaker pricing signal.
The weakening signal shows up in wages. At the turn of the millennium, workers with a bachelor’s degree earned about 1.25 times as much per week as those whose education stopped after high school. Two decades later, that multiple has barely moved. Median weekly earnings for high school graduates have risen from roughly $500 to about $900, while those for bachelor’s degree holders increased from around $900 to just under $1,600. The premium remains, but it is no longer widening. Meanwhile, the cost of obtaining that degree has surged. Average tuition and fees at public four-year colleges now hover near $10,000 per year, while private nonprofit institutions exceed $40,000. When room, board, and living expenses are included, a year at a private university can cost well above $50,000, and even in-state tuition at public universities often surpasses $25,000. Compared with the early 2000s, the total cost of earning a four-year degree is now roughly fifty percent higher.
Put simply, the returns from a degree have been squeezed from both ends. The signal value of a diploma has weakened because so many people now hold one, while the cost of earning it has soared. The result is that families are investing more for a payoff that has barely changed. This is the pivot point for today’s high school graduates: the old equation that any degree is worth it as the essential first step to prosperity, even if it requires taking on large amounts of un-defaultable debt, may no longer hold true for everyone. If it ever truly did.
Changing tasks and generational attitudes
As the supply of degrees has expanded and prices have risen, the work itself has changed. Most office jobs once involved hours of drafting letters, reports, and presentations. These repetitive tasks made up much of what entry‑level employees did, and college assignments were designed to prepare graduates for exactly that. In recent years artificial intelligence tools have shown they can produce well‑structured emails, memos, and even basic business analyses in seconds, and more complex work in hours instead of days. A single employee paired with a capable model can now accomplish what once required a small team, often faster and with better results. Controlled experiments have found that workers who use writing assistants like ChatGPT complete routine assignments more quickly and at higher quality than those who go it alone. When software can generate a respectable first draft, the incremental value of a human doing the same work shrinks. This trend will only accelerate as AI systems begin drawing from a firm’s collective context window (LINK)
This does not mean jobs are disappearing wholesale. It means that the tasks that used to occupy junior employees’ days are being automated. Employers want people who can supervise, evaluate, and refine machine‑generated output rather than someone who can craft each paragraph from scratch. The rise of automation coincides with a shift in hiring practices. Job postings increasingly focus on specific skills rather than educational credentials. In early 2024 more than half of U.S. job listings specified no formal education requirement. Only a small share explicitly asked for a bachelor’s degree, and that share has fallen over the past decade. Employers are warming to the idea of finding talented candidates who learned through bootcamps, community colleges, apprenticeships, or on the job. The four‑year degree may not be the sole proxy for competence it once was.
Generation Z is rethinking the college bargain. Raised on YouTube tutorials and online courses, many question whether four years on campus still guarantee a return. Surveys show that most Gen Z graduates doubt their degrees are worth the cost, and nearly half believe artificial intelligence will soon make parts of their education obsolete. Once in the workforce many say their jobs could be done just as well by someone without a diploma. Their skepticism is not apathy; it comes from watching friends burdened by debt, seeing technology reshape the workplace, and realizing that employers now value skills more than credentials. Employers may be starting to agree.
Matching study to earnings
The college-wage premium has not disappeared, but it now depends heavily on what you study. Degrees are not interchangeable commodities; they confer different kinds of expertise and lead to different kinds of work. Engineering and computer science programs, for example, develop quantitative and technical skills that employers eagerly reward. Median wages for workers with engineering degrees hover around $100,000 a year, with the upper end reaching several times that for in-demand specialties (for now, at least). New graduates in engineering can expect starting salaries near $77,000, and those in computer science are close behind. Over time, those earnings can deliver a rapid payoff on tuition costs.
Now compare those figures with graduates in the social sciences, or what Americans often call the Liberal Arts. Political science, sociology, anthropology, and related majors develop critical thinking and analysis but often lead to lower-paying roles in government, education, and the non-profit sector. Generations of students have accepted this trade-off, valuing purpose or quality of life over income. Even so, the median wage in these fields is about $79,000, with starting salaries typically in the high $60,000s. Humanities graduates often begin in the low $60,000s. These are respectable incomes, but when tuition costs tens of thousands of dollars a year and is often financed with debt, the case for a social science degree over a skilled trade becomes less convincing. Many humanities-based roles are also among the most exposed to generative AI. It may be your dream to write grants for a non-profit, but it is increasingly uncertain whether that non-profit still needs you to do so.
What does this look like in the wild?
Meet Bill and Susan, two high school classmates who take very different paths.
Bill is a good student who scores well on his SATs and gets into a top 100 private college. He chooses accounting, impressed by the promise of a stable career. Four years of tuition, fees, and housing total nearly 200,000 dollars. Scholarships help, but not enough. Bill borrows 65,000 dollars, which will cost him about 85,000 dollars to repay over the loan payback period. Signing for that amount of debt at 18 years old makes him uneasy, but everyone else seems to be doing the same. He shrugs and moves forward.
Susan also did well in school but decides she would rather start earning right away, and maybe college later. She joins an on-the-job electrician training program, starting at 45,000 dollars a year and reaching 65,000 dollars in four years after finishing apprenticeship. With overtime and few expenses, she earns roughly 260,000 dollars gross before Bill even finishes college. She still lives with her parents, owns her tools, drives the same largely-reliable pickup from high school, and has started saving for a home.
Bill graduates and joins Acme Inc as a junior accountant. His salary is 60,000 dollars, a respectable start, though big city rent, commuting, and the occasional weekend splurges quickly eat it up. He can only make slightly-above-the-minimums student loan payments, and while he tells himself this is normal for young professionals, the basic math has him uncomfortable.
Five years later, Bill’s salary has grown, but so have his expenses. Promotions feel good, yet his bank balance rarely moves. When a friend mentions that graduate school pauses loan payments and that most of Acme’s senior managers have master’s degrees, Bill decides to take the plunge. With little savings, he borrows another 100,000 dollars for tuition and living costs.
Ten years after high school, Susan is thriving quietly. She earns about 70,000 dollars, enjoys her work despite the long hours, physically difficult assignments, and has built a solid nest egg. She is getting serious about her boyfriend, and they are house hunting. Occasionally she scrolls through Instagram and sees Bill’s photos of rooftop brunches or beach weekends. She feels happy for him, though sometimes wonders whether she should have gone to college after all.
At 29, Bill finishes his master’s and returns to Acme at 130,000 dollars. The pay jump feels huge. His total student debt, now around 150,000 dollars, feels even larger. He resolves to pay it down aggressively, but life in Capital City has its temptations, and most months the money seems to disappear.
Epilogue
By her late-thirties, Susan owns a home, manages a small team of electricians, has three kids, and nice fishing boat she uses with her husband on the weekends. Her knees ache, her job is demanding, and she questions how long she can keep up the physical demands of her job, but likes the life she has built. Every now and then she feels a pang of regret about never going to college, especially when she scrolls the LinkedIns of old classmates. She is determined, though, her children will be the first-in-family to go to college.
Bill, also in his late-thirties, has finally reached zero net worth. His income at Acme has continued to rise a bit since rejoining after his master’s, but not as much as he had hoped. He has not yet settled down. In the back of his mind, he has wanted to, but his financial situation has always made him hesitant. He tells himself he will start saving seriously soon; maybe next year.
He has traveled, built a network, and collected interesting stories, but the math never quite added up. He complains frequently that buying a house is impossible, and that the system is stacked against people like him. He wonders aloud why he worked so hard only to feel like he is still catching up.
Recently he’s heard that Acme is exploring a Two-Stack Firm AI solution, and there are rumors that his department might be in danger. Exploring more, it seems many of the peer companies are doing the same.
Two classmates, two versions of success, and two very different kinds of debt.
Alternatives and new pathways
College does not have to be a yes‑or‑no choice. Many countries have found middle paths that blend study with work, allowing young people to earn credentials while gaining experience. These systems work best for students who already have a sense of direction and want to start building a career without taking on heavy debt.
In Germany students can sign with companies that cover tuition and pay a salary while they split their time between classrooms and job sites. They graduate with degrees, savings, and a place in the workforce. Switzerland and the United Kingdom do much the same through paid apprenticeships that link education directly to employment.
Even in the United States programs in the trades quietly offer a version of this balance. Trainees earn while they learn, build skills, and start saving instead of borrowing.
In many developed countries, education and employment are not separate stages of life but parallel tracks. The United States could stand to learn from that.
Choosing your path
Deciding whether to go to college is a matter of optimization. What are you optimizing for? For many high school graduates who have no clear plan and no interest in a trade, college is the best (and sometimes only) option. It can be expensive and risky, especially if you drift through four years and end up needing a graduate degree to monetize your major. But staying home and doing nothing rarely leads to clarity or progress.
That being said, a focused person without a degree can build a career that competes with or even exceeds what many college graduates make. Trade apprenticeships can lead to middle‑class incomes without debt. On the other hand, an unfocused college graduate burdened with loans may struggle for years. Many student loan borrowers do not finish school, and the debt they carry cannot be discharged in bankruptcy. These loans remain as weights that follow them through life, damaging credit scores and even affecting job applications. The key is to know what you want, or at least know what you do not want, and move toward your goals. Eliminate distractions that slow you down, whether they are debt you cannot afford or relationships that drain you. Do not be a log floating in the current; have a rudder.
I write this with firsthand experience. In college I excelled at science and assumed I should be a doctor. By junior year I had completed all the pre‑med requirements and was studying for the MCAT. My advisor gently urged me to shadow a physician. After a few months observing a GP, I knew unequivocally that medicine was not for me. I was grateful for the doctors who feel the calling, but I did not; and that was demonstratively clear. I retreated to the lab, and while research was fun, it did not feel like a career. Ultimately I did what Bill did: I took out a massive loan I could not really afford and went back for a graduate program at a school that sounded fancy, but in all honesty had no clue what I was doing. It worked out for me through a combination of hard work dumb-luck market timing. Very easily could have have gone the other way.
Know where you want to go in life, and more importantly, what it will cost to get there compared to what the upside will be. Do not take on hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt for a career that pays tens of thousands a year. Think carefully about the alternatives that may not require a degree but lead to the same outcome. If you truly want a degree, look into programs such as the GI Bill that can cover tuition through military service. There are many paths in life. Do not end up buried in debt for something that adds little value.