Why I think a BA was worth it

Carleton grad Colin Horgan on how the job market meltdown may actually prove the worth of an undergrad degree

Colin Horgan

Oct. 21, 2009 12:00 PM EDT

When I left Carleton University in 2006 with a BA in history, the world was still a friendly place for graduates. It was what Hunter S. Thompson described as a "wild party for rich kids." The late 20th century welcomed university graduates into the work force with salaries that were once solely reserved for lifetime employees. Today, that has all changed. Thousands of students are staring a job market meltdown straight in the face, clutching a university degree in one hand, with the other one open, palm up, hoping for any offer that comes by. But what if nobody cares?

Carleton grad Colin Horgan

Carleton grad Colin Horgan

Carleton grad Colin Horgan

Carleton grad Colin Horgan

More Canadian University Report 2010 Reports

The summer I graduated, Sir Ken Robinson, an internationally acclaimed expert on education and author of The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything, summed up an increasing problem with a post-secondary education in a talk at TED. He said: "Suddenly, degrees aren't worth anything…now you need an MA where the previous job required a BA and now you need a PhD for the other. It's a process of academic inflation."

After I left university, I naively believed my degree to be a ticket to a career. I was wrong, and Sir Ken was right—it seemed all I'd earned was a glorified high school diploma. With every interview I went to, the value of my degree seemed to dwindle. Soon, my resume began to resemble a shopping mall directory.

This summer, I was offered the chance to audit a first-year geology class at the University of British Columbia as part of a writing assignment. I jumped at the opportunity. After all, perhaps I had missed my calling—geologists are often paid better than freelance writers. And besides, my dad was a geology major—maybe I would be naturally gifted at it.

When I got to class, I decided to pretend that the last three years had never happened. "What will you do with your major?" asked a freckled second-year girl in a purple hoodie as we worked on the first group activity. I just shrugged. She nodded, understanding the daunting "real world" in which our education would somehow, theoretically, be applicable. I'd felt the same once—that at some point someone would tell me how I could use my degree. That never happened. I started to panic. I wanted to warn her about the scary reality of Sir Ken's world—my world—and pack her safely off to a 3-year diploma program at a technical college for some hands-on, "real world" experience in carpentry or business management or something. But then I remembered that technically, at that very moment, I was at work.

In the current economic climate, one of the most valuable assets for any graduate is the ability to think laterally. This is what a university degree delivers. Every program requires a breadth of classes, and prepares students—if only briefly—for a range of situations in the world outside the campus gates.

I never wanted to be a historian, and I only know a few history students who have ever worked as archivists, researchers, or any of the other jobs a history major is supposed to have. I became a writer. It wasn't a big jump from my chosen field, but it was necessary to keep me employed. And without the endless note taking, fact checking and term papers that I'd done at university, (not to mention the hours spent yearning for words to appear on an empty screen) I would never have been prepared for the writing world.

Academic inflation won't stop—there will be more university graduates in the next 30 years than ever before in the history of the world—but that doesn't make the experience any less important. A degree program might not guarantee graduates a job in this economic climate, but it does guarantee the skills to adapt to it. For all those wondering whether that four-year degree program will be worth it, the answer is yes (if you know how to use it).

Geology wasn't for me, and I decided to stick to my day job. I left class after a week and went on vacation, comforted by the fact that even my dad isn't a geologist any more.

More Canadian University Report 2010 Reports

Bookmark and share this page with: