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The Escalator That Stops at Twenty-Two

The Escalator That Stops at Twenty-Two

How front-loading learning launches young people off course—and leaves their older selves with regret they can’t fix

On graduation day, tassels swinging and flashbulbs popping, we feel invincible.

When we are young, we believe that meaning comes from passion. We think that being interesting is the same as being valuable. We welcome the message that school is about more than a career. We believe it when they say, “Don’t worry about money. Just do what you love.”

But the systems that deliver education—and especially higher education—aren’t built to support the people we become. This essay argues we must redesign higher education by compressing traditional degree programs, funding lifelong booster shots, and shifting the cost of mid-career retraining away from individual employers and toward portable public mechanisms.

No one tells us that at forty-five, usefulness will feel like dignity. That to have someone pay you well because you make their life better is a quiet kind of joy. That being needed beats being admired.

But the way we structure education doesn't give us room to discover that slowly. It forces us to decide too early, with too little context. We ask people in their teens to make choices that shape the rest of their lives—before they’ve worked a real job, paid a bill, or felt what it’s like to be responsible for other people. And once those choices are made, we give them almost no way to change course.

We all know someone like this. Or maybe this is your experience: a man in his late forties who looks back at the major he chose, the loans he took out, the path he started on—and feels trapped. Not because he was lazy, but because he didn’t yet know what he would want later. And now, the doors he needs don’t open anymore.

The result isn’t just a skills gap or a productivity loss. It’s grief. It’s people stuck in jobs they chose at nineteen, trying to live up to a version of themselves they no longer recognize.

And it’s not just individuals who pay. The economy is an information system. Prices and wages and vacancies are how society says: We need more of this. We have too much of that. When people learn outside that system—guided only by grades, peers, and parental hopes—they spend their most formative years acquiring knowledge that doesn’t connect to what society is asking for.

They still learn. But they miss the opportunity to learn what would make them useful.

And when they realize it—when they’re thirty-eight, or forty-seven, or sixty—it’s often too late to do anything about it. That’s the part we never talk about: the quiet, chronic regret of a life that could have gone another way.


Three stories

Ben never got a second chance. He enrolled at a regional university because a counselor said, “Something is better than nothing.” He dropped out after three semesters when his dad lost his job. Now he supervises a warehouse dock. He makes ends meet, barely. He has a student loan he can’t shake, and every year he watches new hires with finished degrees pass him on the pay scale. He wants to grow, but he doesn’t know where to start, or how to afford the time. Only 41 % of U.S. community-college entrants earn any credential within six years, and the rest accumulate loans without leverage.

Camila did everything right—on paper. She got an NSF-funded PhD in ecology, specializing in Bayesian species-distribution models. Her dissertation predicts how beetles migrate as climate shifts millimeters of rain across decades. Professors loved her. She published. She taught.

But each tenure-track opening in her field now draws a hundred applicants. Meanwhile, precision-ag firms, state water agencies, and catastrophe-risk insurers hire environmental modellers by the dozen. They need skills Camila never picked up: satellite-image pipelines, hydrology equations, GIS integration. She wasn’t under-educated; she was mis-educated. (Environmental-risk analysts earn a median $105 000—about double a typical post-doc stipend.) If she’d spent a semester inside a flood-insurance firm, she’d still be fascinating over coffee—and solving real problems. Instead, she floats in academic limbo: over-qualified, under-hired, quietly heart-broken.

Tasha followed the new playbook. She did a coding boot camp, landed a junior developer role, and paid off tuition within a year. When the firm lost a client, senior devs left. Tasha stayed to maintain aging dashboards. Ads for data-pipeline engineers—up 27 % in two years—line her feed, but the six-month reskilling she needs would mean quitting her job and losing childcare. So she waits. Stuck. Tired.

Together they expose the blind spot: early choices harden before reality can correct them.

These three lives—Ben’s stall, Camila’s brilliant drift, Tasha’s orbital decay—share one tragic pattern:

Their younger selves made choices they can’t fix. Their older selves live with the consequences.

We built a system that pours all education into the narrow window between 18 and 22—even though medicine, law, and other fields prove that deep early study can still benefit from mid-career specialization. We light the rocket once and expect the ship to fly true for the rest of a life. No mid-course corrections. No small boosters. No second chances.

When people try to correct course, they find the cost too high: the time, the money, the risk. So they settle. They wait. They mourn.


We can fix this

Each year of delay costs the U.S. about $45 billion in lost productivity and wages. We could fix this.

We could build a learning system that expects redirection, not just launch—offering boosters every five years: new skills, new exposures, new feedback. One that makes it normal to say, at 38, I want to switch, and have society answer, Great. Here’s how.

We already have prototypes:

  • Paid preview years. Colorado’s CareerWise lets high-school juniors work two days a week in advanced-manufacturing shops, experiencing wage signals before college.
  • Subscription boosters. France’s Compte Personnel de Formation deposits euros into every worker’s training wallet annually—use it or lose it—doubling participation.
  • Dual bidding for doctorates. Montreal AI labs hire post-docs at private-sector rates but rotate them back to teach each year—forcing universities to keep stipends honest while showing PhDs outside demand.
  • Care-window boosters. A Vancouver hospital pays nurses on maternity leave to finish micro-credentials online, so they return with a raise, not a rusty license.

To make boosters universal, we’ll have to make trade-offs. A payroll surtax could feed personal learning accounts, or a slice of federal loan subsidies could be redirected into grant-like booster vouchers. We’ll also need to shrink the traditional college experience—less seat-time, less debt, fewer years spent disconnected from labor-market signals—because we’re not returning to an era of thirty-year single-employer careers. Mid-career reskilling must be funded publicly, portably, and continuously.

We can do better. This is not a plea for kindness or charity. It is a demand for basic accountability. The system that front-loaded learning—and then withdrew the ladder—was engineered by policy. Policy can rebuild it.

If we fail, we forfeit billions in lost output and millions of quietly bruised lives. If we succeed, we regain the human capital we already paid for and the civic trust we keep eroding.

We owe that to ourselves, because maturity should be an asset, not a sentence. A society that lets experience revise the half-formed choices of youth gains twice—new utility for the economy and deeper dignity for the individual. Buildings get retrofitted; software gets patched. Our human capital deserves the same right to a version-upgrade.


Appendix — Footnotes

  1. Education Week, Feb 1992 — Clinton’s universal-college pledge framed as economic strategy.
  2. Lumina Foundation, “75 × 2040” Plan (2025) — Targets 75 % credential attainment; publishes state scorecards.
  3. BLS Employer-Provided Training Survey (1996) — 13.4 formal + 37 informal training hours per worker per half-year; high-water mark.
  4. Conference Board of Canada, Learning & Development Outlook (2018) — Employer training spend fell from CA$1 249 (1993) to ~CA$889 (2017).
  5. National Student Clearinghouse, “Some College, No Credential” (2025) — 43 million U.S. adults with partial credits; default-risk detail.
  6. Legislative Education Study Committee Brief (2025) — 4.3 million U.S. “disconnected youth,” ages 16–24.
  7. FRB-NY Labor Market Dashboard (Q1 2025) — Recent-grad under-employment at 41.2 %.
  8. Statistics Canada Daily (Nov 2022) — 10.6 % over-qualification among Canadian-born degree-holders.
  9. American Historical Association Job Survey (2017) — Median 96 applicants per tenure-track history post.
  10. Dynamic Ecology blog data (2019) — ~100 applicants per ecology tenure-track slot.
  11. eLife Meta-analysis (2019) — Only 14 % life-science PhDs reach tenure track in five years; experience premiums falling.
  12. Deming & Noray, QJE (2020) — Applied-STEM wage premium erodes > 50 % in ten years.
  13. OECD, The Future of Productivity (2015) — Cutting skill mis-match to top-quartile adds 0.2 ppt to annual MFP growth.
  14. Mary Alice McCarthy, U.S. House Testimony (2025) — 90 % apprenticeship completion, $6–$11 wage gains; France’s CPF doubled adult participation.
  15. Gallup–Strada “On Second Thought” (2017) — 40 % of bachelor’s grads would pick a different major if starting over.
  16. F. A. Hayek, “The Use of Knowledge in Society” (AER, 1945) — Prices as the economy’s distributed information network.
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