The number of adjunct and student faculty in higher education has exploded. Managerial and administrative ranks have ballooned. University costs have soared well past inflation. And now, student debt stands at a total of $1.7 trillion.
Crippling levels of student debt have been in the public eye for decades. Recently, the White House and members of Congress floated proposals to forgive amounts varying between $10,000 and $50,000 of federal student loan debt per person as part of COVID-19 relief.
That’s certainly pleasing news, but the idea of canceling debt never really made much sense to me.
Economist and Nobel Laureate Milton Friedman popularized the saying, “There ain’t no such thing as a free lunch.” I don’t know much about economics, but eliminating that much public debt can’t come without far-reaching consequences that will either impact us or future generations for decades.
But astronomical levels of student debt and precarious proposals to address it aside, how did this happen in the first place?
A report released earlier this month by the JP Morgan Chase & Co. Institute stated that “any long-term solution to relieving the burden of student debt is incomplete without addressing underlying issues." The report argued that increasing tuition costs is a major component underpinning rising student debt.
I can’t help but think: Are “increasing tuition costs” actually the underlying issue behind these mind-boggling student debt figures?
Obviously, on paper, skyrocketing tuition costs explain the rise in student debt in pretty simple terms. As the price of tuition increases, and if wage growth stays flat, borrowers will continue to be riddled with ever-increasing sums of debt.
But why are tuition costs rising faster than inflation?