From politics to social and health conditions, it seems, in the words of Princeton economists Case and Deaton, that there are “not one but two Americas.” One is the America of those with a college degree and the other is the America of those without. But if we look at how the college education system works, we also see a divide in the opportunities, the quality, and the burden shared by students who attend elite colleges versus those who don’t.
The co-existence of these two divides drives populist politics, differences in health and life expectancy, social decay, and uneven opportunities for advancement and social mobility. The fact that they persist with little ameliorative action signifies that we are willing to countenance a system in which segmenting people by degrees of education is acceptable.
In an interesting and perhaps unexpected way, the Supreme Court decision that struck down affirmative action may become a catalyst for change. Both public opinion and experts prefer that college admissions move from the race-based model of affirmative action to a class-based model that opens-up opportunities for all young people of underprivileged socioeconomic status. Richard Kahlenberg who writes about educational and social issues has long exposed the preference of elite institutions for applicants from more affluent families. Preferential admissions for legacy students and high-school players in boutique sports, like hockey, clearly favor the better off. But beyond that, 71% of Black and Hispanic students admitted to elite colleges come from the top 20% of the income distribution. Therefore, Kahlenberg writes, what elite institutions practice is an affirmative action for the rich.
Another divide in the American higher education system is the huge chasm in resources between elite and non-elite colleges. Sociology professors Arum and Stevens remind us that the Supreme Court decision affected the opportunity for an elite college education of only a tiny fraction of minority students. The overwhelming majority of such students, however, go to colleges inadequately funded and, hence, less likely to provide the same quality education. Arum and Stevens point to California for an example of uneven educational resources. Whereas elite colleges in that state spend $40 to $60 thousand per student, non-elite colleges spend only $6 to $8 thousand. So, if we care to even the quality of college education, we ought to provide sufficient funding to public colleges.
The less financially privileged students who mostly attend the poorly-funded and poorly-resourced colleges also lose in another more devastating way. They are the ones who hold a disproportional fraction of the $1.7 trillion student debt. The explosion of student debt is primarily due to the shift of most public colleges, including the very top among them, to a tuition-based financial model with states allocating fewer and fewer budget dollars to higher ed.
This shift was inspired by the market-based idea that a college degree could pay off its cost through the higher life-time earnings of college graduates. Unfortunately, things have not worked that way. Except for well-paying degrees, as those in business, computers and technology, career earnings in many other jobs have not matched the inflation of educational costs. Thus, students who follow lower-salary careers fall behind in their student debt payments with serious adverse consequences for their lives. Not surprisingly, degrees in the humanities that lack the earnings power of degrees in professional fields have fallen out of favor with students. As a result, we are witnessing a worrisome trend of colleges closing humanities departments and eliminating humanities courses. Markets are supposed to rationalize allocation of resources. But in education, the debt-financed tuition model leaves a broad range of lower-wage occupations below the affordability threshold and risks depriving students of a well-rounded education, a critical part of which comes from a strong humanities curriculum.
This state of affairs in higher education has led even moderate commentators like David Brooks to decry the college admissions process as “one of the truly destructive institutions in American society.” Brooks argues that the admissions hierarchy is replicated in society as elite colleges prepare young people to live within an ecosystem of privileged citizens with a sense of meritocratic attainment that alienates them from those who lack elite college diplomas or a college degree at all.
But what makes America unique among affluent countries is the divide between Americans with and without college education as a predictor of basic living conditions. Case and Deaton were the first to call attention to the plight of non-college educated middle-aged Americans in their book Deaths of Despair in 2020. Case and Deaton continue to remind us that non-college adults are plagued by more sickness, more drug abuse, more suicides, and significantly shorter life expectancy. It is shocking, they write, that Americans without a college degree are now destined to live 8 and half years less than college educated Americans.
The consequences of lacking a college education also extend to poor family outcomes, such as the proliferation of single-parent homes. Melissa Kearney, an economics professor, points out that children raised in single-parent homes are less likely to succeed in school and more likely to run afoul of the law. Even worse, children of single-parent families are more likely to replicate the pattern of poor family outcomes in their own adult lives.
So, our current policies are inconsistent with our avowed goals. First, our goal to maintain our global competitiveness requires that American colleges produce more and better educated students. Second, our goal to have a society with the capacity to reproduce socially healthy outcomes requires that we have more stable and financially sustainable families. To achieve these goals, though, we need to make education (college and vocational) more affordable and equitable across classes. Neither seems promising under current policies.
Finally, there is another dimension in the college versus no college rift. Educated elites like to glamorized college education as the ticket to social success and better living. The representatives of these elites inhabit the two coastal strips of the country and live off the digital and information economy. But a country needs food, energy, and other tangible goods to prosper. And as of 2018, according to The Bureau of Labor Statistics most of the Americans who provided these necessities lived in the middle of the country. These people for good reason dispute the idea that a college education (at a high cost nonetheless) is indispensable for their jobs. And, of course, they resent the fact that they have lost significant share of the production of these goods to foreign countries. Hence, they feel abandoned.
Which leads to the question: “Should lacking a college degree mean a life in misery in America?” How wise and politically sustainable is it to ignore the interests and social standing of the majority of the population that happens to forego or not afford a college degree?