What a new white paper reveals about college value, career preparation, affordability, and the changing world of work.
Every year, it seems that another ranking of college majors appears in the media. Some identify the majors with the highest starting salaries. Others rank majors according to unemployment rates, lifetime earnings, or the percentage of graduates working in occupations that require a college degree.
These rankings attract considerable attention, particularly from parents concerned about the rising cost of college and students seeking assurance that their time and money invested in education will lead to a rewarding career.
I understand the appeal of rankings based on earnings. With the published price of attendance at some private colleges approaching or exceeding $100,000 annually, families have legitimate reasons to ask whether the degree their student pursues will provide an adequate financial return.
I have written frequently about the limitations of evaluating a college education primarily through earnings data. While earnings and employment are important measures, they tell us relatively little about the educational experiences that produce successful graduates or the opportunities available to those graduates throughout their careers.
A recently published white paper by Dr. Greg D. Pillar, Beyond the Rankings of College Majors: Understanding Employment, Earnings, and the Value of an Education Beyond the Major, provides a thoughtful examination of these issues.
Pillar, an assistant provost for academic affairs and a full professor at Gardner-Webb University, begins his white paper with a story about reading a LinkedIn post that lists college majors with the lowest unemployment rates. Rather than accepting the ranking as evidence of which majors provide the greatest value, he examines the relationships among employment, underemployment, earnings, educational costs, and career opportunities using publicly available data.
His analysis raises questions that deserve greater attention from college presidents, trustees, faculty members, policymakers, parents, and prospective students.
I agree with much of Dr. Pillar’s analysis. However, I believe his findings support several additional conclusions, particularly given the growing affordability crisis in higher education and the potential impact of artificial intelligence on employment.
A Low Unemployment Rate Does Not Necessarily Mean a High Financial Return
One of Pillar’s most useful contributions is his examination of the differences between employment and earnings. Using additional data beyond unemployment rates from the Federal Reserve Bank of New York’s publication The Labor Market for Recent College Graduates, he demonstrates that majors associated with very low unemployment rates do not necessarily produce high salaries.
According to the 2024 data presented in the white paper, recent graduates majoring in special education experienced an unemployment rate of just 0.7 percent. That is an extraordinarily low rate, suggesting strong demand for individuals entering the profession. However, their median early-career earnings were $46,000, increasing to only $56,000 for the mid-career group. Compare those figures with computer engineering, where the unemployment rate was 7.8 percent, but median early-career earnings were $90,000 and mid-career earnings were $131,000. The difference is striking.
A special education graduate may have a much higher probability of finding employment, but a computer engineering graduate who secures a position may earn nearly twice as much early in their career. Based on these findings, which major provides the better financial return to the college graduate?
The answer depends on several factors, including the cost of the education, the amount borrowed, the probability of finding employment, and the graduate’s personal circumstances. Pillar also identifies another important distinction: underemployment.
Agriculture majors, for example, experienced unemployment of just 1.4 percent, but 57.1 percent of employed recent graduates were classified as underemployed. Computer science majors had a considerably higher unemployment rate of 7.0 percent, but the underemployment rate was only 19.1 percent.
The Federal Reserve defines underemployment according to whether an occupation typically requires a college degree. It does not necessarily mean that graduates are poorly paid or that their education is irrelevant to their work. These distinctions are important because rankings often encourage prospective students to focus on a single number when making decisions that may influence the next several decades of their lives.
I support Dr. Pillar’s observations and would emphasize the following premise:
The real question should not be which major has the highest employment rate or salary. It should be which educational pathway offers a particular student the best combination of affordability, opportunity, preparation, and long-term flexibility.
That is a more complicated question, but it is also a more useful one.
The Missing Variable Is Often the Cost of the Degree
Pillar recognizes that the cost of college belongs in any serious discussion of educational value. I would place even greater emphasis on this issue. For years, I have questioned whether the traditional financial models of many colleges adequately reflect the economic circumstances of the students and families they serve.
A student majoring in history at a private college charging $80,000 annually may face a very different financial future from a student earning the same degree at a public university charging substantially less. Both students may study similar subjects. Both may develop strong analytical, research, and communication skills. Both may pursue successful careers. However, if one student graduates with $80,000 in debt and the other graduates with $15,000, their financial circumstances will be dramatically different even when their earnings are the same.
The problem becomes even more significant for students from lower-income families. Published tuition prices are not the same as net prices after financial aid is applied. Some highly selective institutions provide extraordinarily generous financial assistance, while other institutions with lower published prices may leave financially disadvantaged students with substantial unmet need. That is why I have argued that families should pay considerably more attention to net price than to published tuition or institutional prestige.
Pillar cites research by Federal Reserve Bank of New York economists Jaison Abel and Richard Deitz, who examine both the direct costs of attending college and the earnings students forego while enrolled. Their analysis reinforces a point that is frequently overlooked: the cost of college is not simply the amount appearing on the tuition bill. It also includes the opportunity cost of spending several years outside the full-time workforce.
For traditional-age students, the opportunity cost may be manageable. For adults returning to college while supporting families, it can be substantial. We should also consider the financial consequences of not completing a degree. A student who borrows money for two or three years of college and leaves without graduating may have accumulated substantial debt without obtaining the credential that could improve employment opportunities. Consequently, a meaningful assessment of college value should include the probability of completion, the likely time required to graduate, and the total net cost of earning the degree. This is another reason why colleges should be far more transparent about the financial consequences of enrolling in particular programs.
A national salary ranking cannot tell a student whether a specific college in a low-income region is worth its price. A college’s reputation should not exempt it from having to answer that question.
Are We Asking Too Much of College Majors?
Another aspect of Pillar’s analysis that I particularly appreciate is his challenge to the assumption that a college major should lead directly to a corresponding occupation. He observes that history graduates may pursue careers in banking, corporate strategy, or community administration without having made an inappropriate educational choice. I agree (and note that I earned an undergraduate degree in history).
Throughout my career, I have worked with individuals whose professional accomplishments had relatively little direct connection to their undergraduate majors. Some of the most effective executives I encountered studied subjects traditionally associated with the liberal arts. Others had technical backgrounds but developed their leadership capabilities through experiences that extended far beyond their original fields of study.
The assumption that a college major should define a person’s career is increasingly difficult to defend. Certainly, some occupations require specialized undergraduate preparation. Nursing, engineering, accounting, and certain other fields provide clear examples. However, many careers do not follow such direct pathways.
Employers frequently value capabilities that are developed across multiple disciplines: critical thinking, analytical reasoning, written communication, quantitative literacy, collaboration, and the ability to learn unfamiliar material.
Pillar makes an important distinction between the name of a major and the capabilities a graduate develops. A history major who learns to evaluate competing sources of evidence, construct persuasive arguments, and communicate complicated ideas may possess capabilities that are valuable in consulting, finance, public policy, or management. Pillar writes that these capabilities are not always obvious to prospective employers. That raises a question that colleges should take more seriously: Are we doing enough to help students explain what they have learned and demonstrate how their knowledge can be applied?
A diploma and transcript identify courses completed and grades earned. They often reveal relatively little about what graduates can accomplish. This is one reason I have become interested in the development of Learning and Employment Records, digital credentials, and other mechanisms for documenting demonstrated competencies.
If colleges can provide credible evidence of what students know and can do, employers may be better able to evaluate candidates whose majors do not correspond directly to job titles. Such systems are not a substitute for a college education. They could, however, make the value of that education more visible.
Historical Earnings Data May Become Less Predictive in the Age of AI
Here is where I believe Pillar’s analysis could be extended considerably. Most college-major rankings rely on historical employment and earnings data. Those data are useful, but they describe what happened to previous groups of graduates under economic and technological conditions that may differ significantly from those confronting today’s students.
The Federal Reserve figures in Pillar’s tables describe early-career and mid-career salary outcomes by major in 2024. A student entering college in the fall of 2026 may not graduate until 2030. What will the labor market look like then?
Artificial intelligence introduces a level of uncertainty that makes this question particularly important. Consider computer science. For many years, computer science was viewed as one of the most reliable pathways to a high-paying career. The growth of technology companies, demand for software developers, and relatively high salaries encouraged students to pursue the field. Yet Pillar’s data from the New York Fed show that recent computer science graduates experienced a 7.0 percent unemployment rate in 2024.
That figure alone does not establish that artificial intelligence caused the unemployment. Hiring cycles, economic conditions, employer decisions, and changes in the supply of graduates also matter. Nevertheless, the emergence of increasingly capable AI tools raises legitimate questions about how employers will organize technical work in the future.
If AI can perform a growing share of routine programming tasks, will employers continue hiring the same number of entry-level software developers?
Or will they expect smaller teams of experienced employees, supported by AI systems, to perform work previously assigned to larger groups?
Similar questions apply to accounting, financial analysis, marketing, legal research, and other fields traditionally associated with professional employment.
I have written previously about the potential consequences of AI for entry-level employment. One of my greatest concerns is that employers may reduce the number of positions through which recent graduates historically acquired professional experience. That would create a serious problem for higher education institutions.
Colleges could continue graduating students with strong academic records and appropriate technical knowledge while the number of traditional entry-level opportunities declines. Pillar recognizes that AI may reshape occupations without necessarily eliminating them. I agree, but I believe the implications are even more significant.
Colleges must prepare students not simply for occupations that exist today, but for careers that may change repeatedly over their working lives.
That means disciplinary knowledge remains important, but the ability to apply that knowledge in unfamiliar circumstances becomes increasingly valuable. It also means colleges must reconsider whether their curricula are adapting quickly enough. A degree program designed around the occupational requirements of five or ten years ago may no longer provide sufficient preparation for the opportunities available when today’s students graduate.
The Value of a College Education Cannot Be Reduced to Earnings
Although Pillar’s paper relies heavily on employment and earnings statistics, he acknowledges that education produces benefits that cannot be measured through wages alone. I believe this is one of the most important points in the entire discussion. Higher education has never been exclusively about preparing people for their first jobs. Colleges also contribute to intellectual development, civic participation, personal growth, and the capacity to understand and engage with a complicated world.
A student who studies philosophy, literature, history, or political science may develop perspectives that influence decisions throughout their life. Those benefits can be substantial even when they do not produce an immediate increase in earnings. However, I would caution college leaders against relying too heavily on this argument. It is not sufficient to defend a program with poor employment outcomes by claiming that its intellectual or personal benefits justify the cost. Families struggling to pay tuition deserve a more substantive explanation.
A college that charges substantial tuition should be able to demonstrate that its educational experiences produce meaningful benefits, and that graduates have reasonable opportunities to support themselves. This does not mean every major must produce high salaries. Society needs teachers, social workers, artists, historians, and individuals pursuing careers that provide substantial public benefits without necessarily generating high personal incomes. Pillar makes this point effectively when discussing education and social-service graduates.
Low earnings in these fields may reflect how society compensates essential work rather than a failure of the educational programs preparing students for those occupations. That distinction, while important, raises difficult questions about institutional pricing.
If colleges know that graduates entering certain professions are likely to earn relatively modest salaries, should those colleges reconsider the net prices they charge students preparing for those professions?
Should institutions provide more targeted financial assistance, reduce the time required to complete a degree, or create partnerships that help students enter those careers with less debt?
Those questions deserve serious consideration as do the answers to these questions.
The Missing Link Between College and Career Is Often Human Relationships
Pillar concludes that institutions have responsibilities extending beyond delivering academic content. Students need advising, mentoring, internships, applied learning experiences, and relationships with employers and alums. This argument closely parallels a theme I have been developing in my work on the value of college in the era of artificial intelligence.
For much of higher education’s history, colleges have organized their educational models around the delivery of knowledge. Faculty members possess disciplinary expertise, students enroll in courses, and institutions award credentials when students satisfy academic requirements. That model made considerable sense when access to specialized knowledge was limited.
Today, the internet provides unprecedented access to information. Artificial intelligence is rapidly expanding the ability of individuals to obtain explanations, analyze information, and develop new skills. Consequently, the ability to deliver academic content may become a less distinctive feature of traditional colleges. What, then, will differentiate an excellent college education from other increasingly accessible learning opportunities?
One answer is the quality of the relationships and experiences that institutions create. A student who develops meaningful relationships with faculty members, participates in challenging collaborative projects, receives guidance from alums, and gains access to professional networks may receive benefits that extend far beyond classroom instruction. Those relationships can be particularly important for students whose families lack established professional connections.
A student from an affluent family may arrive on campus with access to executives, professionals, and potential employers through parents, relatives, and family friends. A first-generation college student may arrive with equally strong intellectual capabilities but without comparable networks. If colleges merely provide both students with the same courses and credentials, they may do relatively little to reduce that disparity. However, if institutions deliberately create mentoring relationships, introduce students to alums and provide access to internships and professional experiences, they can help expand opportunities for students who might otherwise lack them.
I increasingly consider these relationships and experiences as an essential component of the value that colleges provide. Dr. Pillar recognizes their importance. I emphasize that they should become central to how institutions define and measure educational quality. Colleges should not assume that these benefits occur simply because students spend four years on campus. They should establish intentional programs that ensure students have meaningful opportunities to develop relationships and professional networks. And they should evaluate whether those opportunities are available to all students, not merely to those most comfortable seeking them out.
Colleges Need to Reconsider How They Organize Their Academic Programs
Pillar raises another issue that deserves greater attention; namely, the organizational boundaries created by academic departments. Traditional colleges are generally structured around disciplines. Faculty members belong to departments, departments oversee majors, and students complete prescribed sequences of courses to earn degrees.
There are good reasons for this arrangement. Disciplinary expertise matters, and students benefit from developing deep knowledge of a subject. However, the problems graduates encounter in their careers rarely conform neatly to academic departments.
A business executive evaluating the implementation of artificial intelligence must consider technology, economics, ethics, organizational behavior, and the potential consequences for employees. An individual addressing climate change may need knowledge of environmental science, public policy, economics, engineering, and human behavior. A healthcare administrator must understand finance, technology, regulation, clinical practice, and patient needs. These are interdisciplinary challenges.
Yet many college programs continue to operate as though the most important objective is mastery of a relatively narrow disciplinary curriculum. I am not suggesting that colleges abandon majors. Rather, they should reconsider whether their programs provide sufficient opportunities for students to apply disciplinary knowledge to complicated problems that require multiple perspectives. One way to do that is to coordinate the inclusion of elective courses that fall outside a program’s typical degree path with that program when doing so enhances specific learning goals.
Another promising approach involves project-based learning, particularly when students from different majors work together on consequential challenges. And yet another involves integrating AI literacy throughout the curriculum rather than treating it as an isolated technical subject.
Students studying history, business, biology, psychology, or political science should understand how AI tools may influence their disciplines and future professions. They should also learn to evaluate AI-generated information critically and recognize circumstances in which human judgment remains essential. Colleges that successfully integrate these experiences may provide graduates with capabilities that are more durable than preparation for a narrowly defined occupation.
We Should Measure the Value Colleges Add, Not Simply the Outcomes Their Graduates Achieve
There is one more limitation to college-major rankings that I would like to emphasize. The earnings of graduates reflect far more than the education they received. Students arrive at college with different academic preparation, family resources, professional connections, geographic circumstances, and career aspirations. Those differences can influence employment outcomes long after graduation.
A graduate earning $100,000 annually may have benefited enormously from a college education. Alternatively, that individual may have possessed advantages that would have produced strong earnings regardless of which institution they attended. Likewise, a graduate earning $50,000 may have experienced substantial economic and personal advancement relative to the opportunities available before enrolling. Simply comparing their salaries does not tell us which college provided the greater educational benefit.
Policymakers and college leaders should place greater emphasis on institutional value added. How much did students develop intellectually during their education? Did they acquire capabilities they did not previously possess? Did they gain access to opportunities that would otherwise have been unavailable? Were they better prepared to navigate career transitions? Did their education expand their professional networks and provide access to professional spaces they might not otherwise have had?
These questions are harder to answer than identifying a graduate’s salary. However, they bring us closer to understanding what an institution contributes to a student’s future. Dr. Pillar explicitly acknowledges this limitation. His appendix explains that the national data do not isolate the effects of a major or identify the contribution of a particular college. Students enter programs with different preparation, interests, and resources. Their subsequent earnings cannot tell us what would have happened had they made a different educational choice. That is an important qualification. I would take it out of the appendix and place it closer to the center of the discussion.
Colleges should not receive all the credit for the success of graduates who arrived with substantial advantages. Nor should institutions serving students with fewer resources automatically be judged inferior because their graduates earn less than graduates of highly selective institutions. At the same time, differences in student circumstances cannot become an excuse for consistently disappointing results.
I would like to see institutions examine outcomes alongside the educational experiences they provide. How many students complete their programs, and at what total net cost? How many participate in meaningful applied learning? How many develop sustained relationships with mentors? Which students receive help connecting with employers, and which students fall through the cracks?
These measures would not, by themselves, establish that an institution caused a particular outcome. They would, however, provide a more useful basis for examining whether the college is delivering what it promises. They would also help presidents and trustees distinguish between an institution that advertises opportunities and one that makes those opportunities realistically accessible.
Dr. Pillar makes that distinction particularly well. He notes that an internship or networking event is not genuinely available to a student who cannot afford to work without pay, travel to the location, or participate because of an existing work schedule. Listing an opportunity is not the same as enabling a student to benefit from it. From my perspective, that is where a discussion about college value becomes a discussion about institutional responsibility.
Moving Beyond Rankings Requires More Than a Better Conversation
Pillar’s white paper is a thoughtful contribution to a debate too often reduced to competing slogans. One side argues that college remains valuable because graduates generally earn more. Another points to debt, unemployment, or disappointing salaries as evidence that the investment no longer makes sense.
Neither position adequately answers the question facing an individual student. Which program, at which institution, at what net cost, offers a reasonable pathway toward that student’s goals? Dr. Pillar helps readers understand why answering that question requires more than consulting a ranking. He also resists the temptation to use the limitations of earnings data as a reason to ignore uncomfortable findings. His conclusion calls on institutions to examine and change what they provide when graduates repeatedly struggle.
My principal criticism is not that the paper overlooks institutional responsibility. It is that I would like to see its recommendations carried further into an explicit framework for action and accountability. A president and provost reading this paper should ask what will change at their institution because of it.
- Will students receive clearer information about the net cost of completing a particular program?
- Will departments examine whether their curricula develop the capabilities they claim?
- Will mentoring and applied learning become dependable parts of the student experience rather than benefits available primarily to those who know how to seek them out?
- And when the answers reveal shortcomings, who will be responsible for addressing them?
Those questions are pertinent to institutions that invoke the enduring value of a liberal education. I believe in that value. But defending it should require more than asserting that graduates will eventually discover how to use what they learned. Students deserve help making those connections before graduation.
The possibility of rapid technological change makes that responsibility more urgent. Colleges cannot promise precisely which jobs will be available several years from now. They can take responsibility for helping students develop disciplinary knowledge, practice applying it, evaluate unfamiliar problems, and build relationships with people who can help them manage change.
Nor should the response automatically be another course, another requirement, or another semester of tuition. Dr. Pillar appropriately warns that adding requirements can increase costs without producing a more coherent education. The first task should be to examine how effectively the existing curriculum serves students.
Ultimately, I believe we should retain the useful information in college-major rankings while abandoning the expectation that those rankings can make the decision for us. Employment matters. Earnings matter. Intellectual development, personal growth, and meaningful work matter as well. But price, completion, preparation, and access to opportunity determine whether those potential benefits become a reasonable investment for a particular student.
A major is only one part of that equation. What the institution does for the student is another, and it deserves considerably more scrutiny.
Professor Pillar’s paper encourages us to ask better questions. The next step is for colleges to provide better answers, supported by what their students experience. While rankings are too simplistic to tell the whole story, persuading families on that point is a waste of time. Our goal should be to give them something more useful to evaluate. And then we should deliver an education worthy of their trust, their time, and their money.
