This article was originally published in the December 2023 print edition.
I have probably read over 200 Buzzfeed articles throughout my life. Back when it was still culturally relevant, much of its content focused on American college life and the culture that emerged from within it. From 23 things that perfectly define “college culture” and 21 things that are so college, it hurts. The 2010s were the years of America’s cultural hegemony; American cultural products (books, movies, music, art, etc.) were consumed all around the world. Movies about the “American College Experience” were also very prevalent: from “22 Jump Street” and “Legally Blonde” to “Monsters University.” The sentimental attachment Americans held onto the colleges they attended, or desired to attend, was fascinating: buying merchandise, keeping up with football games and donating large amounts of money for no particular reason. At this point, College seemed to be a quintessential and uniquely American experience.
Fast-forward to the 2020s, earlier this year, The New Yorker magazine announced the death of the English major, The Atlantic declared the humanities to be in a state of crisis, and a creative writing professor asked Universities to stop corporatizing her students in a New York Times guest essay, where she discusses the recent educational trend focusing on student professional outcomes. It doesn’t really matter, though. The crisis is not limited to the humanities; any department that is not profitable is affected.
At the same time, total student debt in the United States has almost tripled over the last 15 years, and from 1980 to 2020, the average cost of tuition, along with room and board for an undergraduate degree, has increased 169%. The question of ‘is College worth it?’ looms over our heads. If the American dream is dead, then where does that leave American higher education?
A conveniently brief history of the beginning, and the beginning of the end, of American Higher Education
Several universities claim to be the first university in the United States. The University of Pennsylvania considers itself to be America’s first university, John Hopkins University claims to be “America’s first research university.” Harvard University, founded in 1636, claims to be “the oldest institution of higher education in the United States.” The College of William & Mary is said to have been planned even before, in 1618. In 1940, about one in twenty adults had a college degree. Now, more than one-third of the adult population hold a college degree. What drove the increase in demand for higher education? Is it still, or was it ever, a necessity?
In 2019, OperationVarsity Blues happened: an investigation into a criminal conspiracy to influence undergraduate admissions. Between 2011 and 2018, 33 parents were accused of paying more than 25 million dollars to fraudulently inflate entrance exam test scores and bribe college officials. It involved money laundering, the use of photo-editing software to fabricate sport credentials and submitting false paperwork to prove a disability and get a stand-in to take the ACT. The scandal resulted in multiple indictments, students expelled from their respective schools and an epiphany for many; America doesn’t know what college is for.
The scandal not only revealed the lengths that some upper-middle class parents were willing to go to secure spots for their children at prestigious institutions, but raised concerns about the nature of higher-education. Parents were willing to embezzle, bribe, lie and be convicted of crimes to get their kids into an elite school. On the other hand, high-schoolers will go to impossible lengths, creating startups or working to find a cure for cancer if that gets them into an Ivy League institution. Does America really have a purpose for higher education anymore?
The New Economics of College
Most people would answer very simply: yes, money. Financial stability and professional security are largely reasons why people go to college. Upward mobility is a sensible goal, and Americans who hold four-year college degrees have a better chance at financial stability, at least in comparison to those who don’t. According to Federal Reserve data, 75% of American wealth is owned by college graduates.
Money is a good reason to attend college, and the fact that money is a good reason to attend college means college, as we know it, has no reason to exist. If the sole reason for college is financial security and to achieve a certain standard of living, we should consider ways of reshaping college to fit these desired outcomes. If, indeed, the act of getting a college education is an investment, college as it is must be completely restructured.
It is not really a question of whether we should do away with college or not because we have been doing so. In the past few years, West Virginia University has been undergoing an “academic transformation,” aimed at restoring the university’s traditional agrarian ideal and offering courses and academic programs that prepare students for specific sectors and career pathways. Most recently, Gettysburg College has gotten rid of the Gettysburg Review, one of the country’s top literary journals, as part of a larger academic plan that seeks to encourage students to recognize the need for and invest in career skill development. Similarly to its liberal arts peer, Smith College recently revealed the unveiling of plans for a $32 million building to accommodate career development centers, which has raised questions about Smith’s commitment to its liberal arts promise.
Contrary to the prevailing narrative that cutting funding for humanities benefits low-income students, it is essential to clarify such actions are not altruistic. The humanities are not exclusively for the financially privileged, and every student, irrespective of their means, is entitled to engage in the inquiry of the holistic human experience. This notion instead reduces individuals to immediate financial concerns and directs students toward ostensibly more practical fields like engineering or finance, often motivated by the desire for a visually appealing alumni list for the school and churning out graduates who are able to pay back their student loans.
If a liberal arts college decides their goal is no longer to provide funding for a prestigious literary journal, but to advance career development strategies, what is the point in having it even exist anymore? If public research universities decide their fate lies along the path of becoming vocational schools and liberal arts colleges around the country decide to become prep-academies for elite consulting firms, is there anything left for us to learn? In loving memory of American Higher Education, let’s bid farewell to an era that although had its flaws, maintained the basic principle that education is valuable for its own sake.
