Why Americans Have Lost Faith in the Value of College


Three generations of ‘college for all’ in the U.S. has left most families looking for alternatives.

By Douglas Belkin

The Wall Street Journal

January 19, 2024


The political turmoil that rocked universities over the past three months and sparked the resignations of two Ivy League presidents has landed like an unwelcome thud on institutions already struggling to maintain the trust of the American public. For three generations, the national aspiration to “college for all” shaped America’s economy and culture, as most high-school graduates took it for granted that they would earn a degree. That consensus is now collapsing in the face of massive student debt, underemployed degree-holders and political intolerance on campus.


In the past decade, the percentage of Americans who expressed a lot of confidence in higher education fell from 57% to 36%, according to Gallup. A decline in undergraduate enrollment since 2011 has translated into 3 million fewer students on campus. Nearly half of parents say they would prefer not to send their children to a four-year college after high school, even if there were no obstacles, financial or otherwise. Two-thirds of high-school students think they will be just fine without a college degree.

The pandemic drove home a sobering realization for a lot of middle-class American families: “College for all” is broken for most.


Arthur Levine, president emeritus of Columbia Teachers College and author of “The Great Upheaval: Higher Education’s Past, Present and Uncertain Future,” compares this moment in post-secondary education to the seismic change that followed the Industrial Revolution. That 19th-century wave of disruption washed over schools designed to meet the needs of a sectarian, agricultural society and transformed higher education into a sprawling system of community colleges, land-grant universities and graduate schools.

The dilemma faced by today’s high-school students is that while a similarly massive economic disruption has arrived, new educational alternatives have not. “Whatever comes next,” Levine says of Generation Z, “It’s not going to come soon enough for them.”


So how did one of the crown jewels of American society squander so much confidence so quickly?

If the pandemic marked the moment the “college for all” model finally cracked, 1965 marked its birth. As the baby boomers came of age, the federal government made loans available to any college-bound 18-year-old with a high-school diploma, in order to maintain the most educated workforce in the world. High schools scrapped vocational education programs in favor of college preparatory classes.


Cash and prestige saturated college campuses while alternatives like vocational and technical schools withered. Between 1965 and 2011, university enrollment increased nearly fourfold to 21 million as the earning differential between high school and college graduates expanded. But embedded in the infrastructure of universities were hairline fractures and misaligned incentives that have led the system to buckle.


University governance was designed for an analog era. Decisions are sifted through a slow, deliberative process until faculty, administrators and trustees reach consensus. The genius of the system is that it avoids the strictures of top-down control and protects academic freedom against political interference. The weakness is that it’s a recipe for stagnation.


The digital revolution demanded a nimble realignment of the academy so that students could learn a quickly emerging set of skills to meet changing labor-market demands. Instead of adapting, campus interest groups protected their turf. Decisions reached by consensus usually meant the adoption of modest reforms that were the least objectionable to the greatest number of people, said Brian Rosenberg, former president of Macalester College and author of “‘Whatever It Is, I’m Against It’: Resistance to Change in Higher Education.”


As students abandoned the humanities and flooded fields like computer science, big data and engineering, schools failed to respond. The result was undersubscribed history and English departments and waiting lists for classes that led to well-paying jobs. New programs in emerging fields did not start because schools could not free up the resources.

College enrollment rate of recent high-school graduates, 16 to 24 years old

Source: Labor Department


Many university presidents who pushed for new programs, the faster adoption of technology or the removal of undersubscribed majors faced no-confidence votes from their faculty. “Presidents come in and run smack into the culture and the structures of an institution, and they realize that if I want to keep my job, I’m not going to push for transformational change,” said Rosenberg.


In 2021, when Chuck Ambrose became chancellor at Henderson State University in Arkadelphia, Ark., the school was in financial peril. The music department had more faculty than graduating students, and none of the 60 academic programs was generating enough revenue to cover its costs, Ambrose said. When he announced that the school was going broke, the faculty rejected his data.


Ambrose declared a fiscal “exigency”—the academic equivalent of bankruptcy—and recommended that the school’s board eliminate a third of its teaching positions and nearly half of its degree programs. The faculty asked for his termination, and Ambrose left the next year.


“Systems don’t want to change,” Ambrose said. “Problems accumulate and so does culture.”


The misalignment between universities and the labor market is compounded by the failure of many schools to teach students to think critically. Many students arrive poorly prepared for college-level work, and the universities themselves are ill-equipped to provide intensive classroom instruction.


Professors compete for tenure on the basis of the quality of their research and publishing track record. Teaching is mostly an afterthought. Professors who earn tenure negotiate lighter teaching loads. To fill the gap, schools hire less expensive adjuncts with little job security. Non-tenure track professors now make up three-quarters of college faculty, up from a quarter in 1975.


These precariously employed adjuncts depend on strong student performance reviews for job security, a system that incentivizes them to make few demands in exchange for high ratings. Students spend about half as much time studying and attending class as their counterparts did in 1961, but they are three times more likely to earn an A—now the most common grade in colleges across the country.


A quarter of college graduates do not have basic skills in numeracy and one in five does not have basic skills in literacy, says Irwin Kirsch, who oversees large-scale assessments for ETS, the company that administers the SAT.


Quality control for college degrees falls to accreditors, but they approve programs at hundreds of schools that fail to produce financial value for graduates, and have kept many schools in business with a single-digit graduation rate. About one in 40 U.S. workers draws a paycheck from a college or university, and in recent decades the powerful higher-education lobby in Washington has quashed dozens of proposals to measure the sector’s successes and failures.


Meanwhile, through a combination of state budget cuts, administrative bloat and runaway spending on campus amenities, the real cost of a four-year college degree climbed 180% between 1980 and 2020. The high cost increased pressure on universities to treat students as consumers purchasing a credential, instead of scholars receiving an education.


One result of this transactional attitude has been a sharp increase in cheating. College is one of the few products whose consumers try to get as little out of it as possible, because its market value is tied to the credential, not to the education that it is meant to represent, says Bryan Caplan, an economist at George Mason University and author of “The Case Against Education.”


Cheating is a rational choice on the part of students when credentials are decoupled from learning, Caplan says. He believes that 80% of the value of graduating college today is the signal it sends to employers, and that few students outside of the hard sciences learn much of real value.


The combination of more college graduates and weaker learning outcomes has diluted the signal provided by a degree from less prestigious colleges. That has led to a host of knock-on effects, including credential inflation, in which employers ask for college degrees for jobs that don’t need one and previously did not require one.


For middle-class Americans, college made sense as long as a degree generated a large enough wage premium to make the rising cost of the investment worthwhile. As that premium became less consistent, the risks of going to college grew and confidence in college as an institution declined.


Of 100 random freshmen enrolling in college today, 40 will not graduate. Of the remaining 60 that earn a degree in six years, 20 will end up chronically underemployed. In other words, for every five students who enroll in a four-year college, only two will graduate and find a job based on their degree.


A college education is among the largest investments most Americans will make. The total cost of attending a public college is about $36,000 a year, and the average length of time to a degree is nearly five years. Tack on debt service for student loans and the opportunity cost of not working while in school, and the real cost of college can easily pass $300,000—more than the median net worth of most families.


That math doesn’t work for a growing number of families. The percentage of students who enrolled in college after graduating high school fell from 70% in 2016 to 62% in 2022.


Adalyn Arnstrom, a high-school senior in Dandridge, Tenn., is considering taking a job in construction, with the eventual goal of becoming an electrician, or heading to community college to study ultrasound technology. Despite a 3.0 grade-point average, she’s not very interested in a four-year degree. “I think I can do just fine without it,” she said.


Ben Likens, a high-school senior in Indiana, plans to attend Indiana University next year, mainly because he didn’t see any better options and wanted to avoid the stigma of not going to college. His father, Eric, said that he marched off to college in 1988 because that’s what everyone did. He earned a degree from Ball State University in biology while he worked summers paving roads. After he graduated he continued with road construction because the money was better than anything he could earn with his degree.


Now when Eric hires new employees he considers a college degree a marker of persistence and discipline, but not knowledge or skill. He is unsure if the college path is the wisest choice for his son: “I worry for him that it will be worth it,” he said.


The challenge faced by students willing to buck the gravitational pull of college is to find an alternative. In an economy becoming ever more specialized, most jobs and careers demand skills beyond high school. The question becomes how to get them.


A poll published in 2022 asked parents if they would rather their child attended a four-year college or a three-year apprenticeship that would train them for a job and pay them while they learned. Nearly half of parents whose child had graduated from college chose the apprenticeship.


But unlike the European model of higher education, where students enter a vocational track and apprentice with an employer with the assistance of government support, the U.S. invests almost exclusively in students heading to college. Government financial support for universities outstrips apprenticeships by about 1,000 to one, writes Ryan Craig, author of the book “Apprentice Nation” and managing director of a firm that invests in new educational models.


The pressure to place less emphasis on four-year degrees is growing, however. In what has been called the “degree reset,” the federal government and several states eliminated the degree requirements for many government jobs. Companies like IBM and the giant professional services firm Deloitte have too. Last year,a survey of 800 companiesby Intelligent.com found that 45% intended to eliminate bachelor degree requirements for some positions in 2024. The Ad Council recently ran a campaign encouraging employers to get rid of the “paper ceiling.”


In place of a degree, some employers are adopting skills-based hiring, looking at what students know as opposed to what credential they hold. The problem is that the signal sent by a college degree still matters more, in most cases, than the demonstration of skills. The result is something of a stand-off between old and new ideas of job readiness. A LinkedIn study published last August found that between 2019 and 2022 there was a 36% increase in job postings that omitted degree requirements—but the actual number of jobs filled with candidates who did not have a degree was much smaller.


New initiatives may start to change that balance. New York Mayor Eric Adams has called for 30,000 new apprenticeships in the city by 2030. California Gov. Gavin Newsom wants to create 500,000 in the state by 2029.


Deloitte is one of dozens of big companies championing the idea that skills matter more than degrees. “This is a decade-long journey,” said Kwasi Mitchell, Deloitte’s chief purpose and DEI officer. “It’s going to be a little bit of time before we really open the floodgates with respect to skills-first hiring.”


Douglas Belkin covers higher education and national news out of the Chicago bureau of The Wall Street Journal.


Why Americans Have Lost Faith in the Value of College - WSJ



August 19, 2025
You get an A! And you get an A! On campuses this fall, some students might feel like they’ve wandered into their own Oprah episode, except the prize is a transcript filled with top marks.
August 15, 2025
DFTD Newsletter 8/19/2025 Davidsonians for Freedom of Thought and Discourse is honored to announce a multi-year, major gift from Dr. William Winkenwerder. This generous commitment will ensure that the Davidson community can engage directly with leading voices who shape global affairs and national security policy. A 1976 graduate of Davidson College and former member of the Davidson College Board of Trustees (2015-2022), Dr. Winkenwerder is a nationally recognized physician and health care executive who served as Assistant Secretary of Defense for Health Affairs under President George W. Bush and as a senior leader at the Department of Health and Human Services under President Ronald Regan. His long-standing dedication to public service and his commitment to robust, open discussion on critical issues of foreign policy have been a hallmark of his career. Dr. Winkenwerder’s support will bolster DFTD’s programs by creating the Winkenwerder Policy Series on the Middle East , allowing students to welcome distinguished guests exploring some of today’s most challenging global issues. In collaboration with students and faculty, this series of speakers will offer the Davidson campus and community the chance to hear firsthand perspectives from experts in US Defense Policy, Middle East relations, and international policy at large. This transformative gift from Dr. Winkenwerder will enable vital conversations that foster open discourse and inspire Davidson students and the campus community to explore global issues with curiosity and purpose.
August 13, 2025
By Hannah Fay '25 Dear Davidson Faculty and Biology Professors, I recently graduated from Davidson College in May with a degree in biology. For much of my undergraduate experience, I was on the pre-PA track, driven by a passion for helping people. However, during the fall of my senior year, I reevaluated my long-term goals, making a pivotal shift toward health policy, health reform, and politics. I decided to no longer pursue PA school when I got involved in Young Americans for Freedom and during an internship with Davidsonians for Freedom of Thought and Discourse. While this did not change the classes I took in college, the lens from which I took them had changed. This transition led me to Washington, D.C., where I joined The Heritage Foundation — a prominent conservative think tank — as the Communications Fellow. I’m excited to contribute to the conservative movement and drive impactful change in health and public policy. My career aspirations shifted the moment I started asking questions. I’ve always been conservative. While it’s true that Davidson is not widely known for conservative voices, many of my peers quietly share my convictions. Yet, they hesitate to speak up in class or challenge professors’ perspectives out of fear of grave consequences and being ostracized by classmates. That said, my intent is not to dwell on this issue, but to address the Biology Department directly: I urge you to foster critical questioning and ideological diversity in biology, empowering students to become true critical thinkers. As a liberal arts institution, students attend Davidson to engage in critical thinking. Learning how to think is different from learning what to think. Many Davidson College students pursue biology to help and heal people while others pursue cancer research, probe the origin of life, or tackle pressing environmental challenges. Learning how to think requires engaging in rigorous, high-level discussions. These conversations go beyond one-sided opinions or theories; they involve deconstructing every premise, interrogating narratives, and exposing blind spots. This forges true critical thinkers, shapes our values, and determines facts. I realize professors bring established beliefs into the classroom — yet I urge biology professors to be facilitators rather than dictators over students’ beliefs. Reflecting on my time at Davidson, I grew exponentially in classes when professors played devil’s advocate — challenging arguments and demanding reasoning behind students’ positions. Though these courses were undoubtedly the most rigorous, that very rigor defines the challenging, growth-focused experience Davidson students seek. Students come to college at the impressionable ages of seventeen or eighteen, likely leaving the familiarity of home for the first time. Some students seek to escape the protective bubble their parents created, others rebel against those expectations, many search for a belief system to embrace, and still others wish to strengthen their existing convictions. Yet, to strengthen, one must be stretched. I've found that true growth often comes from being questioned — it's in those moments that I'm pushed to understand and articulate why I hold certain beliefs. If I can’t explain the reasoning behind my convictions, do I genuinely believe them? Some of my most meaningful conversations at Davidson were with people whose perspectives differed from mine. These discussions stretched me to defend my beliefs thoughtfully, which not only strengthened my convictions but also deepened my understanding of another perspective. At the same time, being open to questioning creates space for evolving perspectives. Thoughtful inquiry must begin with the professors. When faculty consistently question assumptions, it signals to students that intellectual exploration is not just encouraged — it’s nonnegotiable. Yet, from my personal observation, there has been a decline in students actively questioning, though I don’t believe this stems from a loss of curiosity (although this is a point worth considering). A study from 2021 revealed that only 4.3% of students ask questions ‘often.’ This study suggests that common barriers to asking questions include being afraid of judgement and not knowing enough to ask a ‘good’ question. Students hesitate to ask questions that challenge what they perceive to be their professors’ viewpoints. Students are more likely to speak up when they see their professors humbly wrestling with difficult questions, modeling the very curiosity and analytical rigor that higher education claims to foster. In an era when many young people feel pressure to conform or self-censor, inquiry from professors becomes a powerful tool: it legitimizes uncertainty. Moreover, ideological diversity has become a lost art at Davidson College. During my undergrad, I rarely encountered a balance of ideology in the classroom. Most — if not all — of my classes advanced the liberal agenda. For example, after the 2024 election, I had many biology classes cancelled the next day in response to President Trump winning the election. One of my professors spoke to the class as if everyone in the class should be mourning the outcome of the election, without any regard to the fact that many students voted for President Trump. If the outcome were the other way around, I am certain that not a single class would have been canceled. A close friend of mine went to her class the day after the election and found what seemed to be a funeral service being held in the classroom. The professor had turned the lights off, was crying, and gave each student a hug as they walked into the room. There were countless stories from professors all over campus of their reactions to the election and how they pressed their agenda onto their students — telling them that their rights were going to be taken from them and lying about President Trump. This is particularly disappointing given Davidson’s identity as a liberal arts institution, one that should celebrate intellectual diversity and the exchange of differing viewpoints. Differences in thought strengthen a community, not divide it, as they too often do in education today. I urge biology professors to actively foster ideological diversity in your classroom — even when those views differ from professors’ own. Professors — please take care not to silence conservative voices, whether intentionally or unintentionally. Encourage thoughtful, respectful dialogue, and help ensure that all students feel free to speak, question, and engage without fear of their grades suffering or facing rejection from peers. Please, when presenting a biologist’s research, do not declare, “Her research is important because she was openly gay in the 80s.” How incredibly insulting to her intelligence. Her ideas — not her sexual identity — should be the reason the biology department teaches her work. Do not tell students that if they get pregnant, they should come to you so you can “help them take care of it.” Parents are not paying $85,000 a year for a professor to tell their daughter to get an abortion, or for a professor to encourage their son’s casual sex. Not to mention, biologists, more than any other person, should understand that life begins at conception. Thus, termination — of any kind, for any reason — of a fetus after conception is murder. Moreover, educators are not parents and have no mandate to recommend abortion. And professors must face the fact: encouraging casual sex does not empower students. Professors should keep their political affiliations private: they must not impose an unsolicited agenda on students. Davidson College attracts minds full of brilliant questions. The biology department must become a crucible for genuine thought, not indoctrination. Welcoming diverse inquiries — subjecting each to the same scrutiny — models the open-mindedness at the heart of a liberal arts education. I hope biology professors do their own research before presenting information to students as “fact.” I hope office-hour conversations become a safe space for students to challenge and explore convictions, even when those convictions differ from their professors. Davidson students have the opportunity to learn from some of the best and highest-minded professors in academia – it would be a disservice to both parties to not welcome proper discourse. I hope the biology department considers my recommendations for balanced ideological thought in their classrooms. Thank you for your time and consideration. Hannah Fay ’25 Hannah Fay graduated from Davidson College in 2025 with a Bachelor of Science in Biology and currently serves as a Communications Fellow at the Heritage Foundation.
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