For years, young people were sold a fairly simple formula: go to university, get the degree, land a stable career, and build a good life. For many men, that formula now feels far less certain. Tuition is expensive, student debt can follow you for years, and even graduates in supposedly “safe” fields are entering a job market that feels increasingly unpredictable. That raises an obvious question: is a university degree still worth it?
The answer is more complicated than either “yes” or “no.” A degree can still be valuable, but the days when the credential alone was enough are fading. Employers increasingly want practical skills, technical ability, real-world experience, and evidence that you can actually take responsibility and produce results. The diploma may help open a door, but it cannot walk through that door for you.
That matters because credentials can give us a false sense of security. Going to school has a clear structure. You know what assignments to complete, what grades you need, and what comes next. Real life is much less predictable. Careers, relationships, business, fatherhood, and leadership all require decisions without guarantees. At some point, you have to move from collecting qualifications to accepting responsibility.
There is also a danger in becoming so frustrated with the system that you stop trying altogether. Maybe tuition is too high. Maybe the job market really is unfair. Maybe the opportunities available to your parents are not available to you in the same way. You can be completely right about those things and still make a terrible decision about what to do next. Understanding why the system is broken is useful. Using that knowledge as permission to stop learning, growing, and taking risks is not.
This is where stewardship matters. Jesus teaches the importance of counting the cost before beginning something. That principle applies far beyond money. Education is an investment of time, effort, and opportunity, so it should be treated like one. The question should not simply be, “Should I go to university?” It should be, “What am I trying to build, what will this cost me, and is this the best path toward it?”
Student debt makes those questions even more important. Debt does not only affect your bank account. It can delay moving out, buying a home, getting married, having children, changing careers, or taking a risk on something meaningful. When enough things feel delayed, it is easy for a man to start believing that he is somehow behind in life. But being delayed and being disqualified are not the same thing. Carrying a heavy load does not mean you are failing. It means you need to keep moving while figuring out how to carry it wisely.
The larger problem may be that many of us were taught to approach life like a transaction. Get the degree and receive the career. Work hard and receive success. Be a good person and receive the life you imagined. Even our faith can quietly become transactional: attend church, follow the rules, do the right things, and expect God to give us the outcome we wanted. When the return does not appear, disappointment becomes resentment.
The parable of the prodigal son offers a helpful picture of this. The older brother did many of the right things, but he still misunderstood his relationship with his father. He thought like an employee keeping track of what he had earned instead of a son who already belonged. We can fall into the same trap with God, constantly measuring what we have done against what we think we should have received in return.
The modern job market is forcing a similar reckoning with credentials. Employers increasingly care about proof. Can you solve problems? Can you communicate? Can you lead? Can you build something? Can you take responsibility when things go wrong? A degree may provide foundational knowledge, but it is no longer a complete substitute for demonstrated capability.
That is why practical experience matters so much. Internships, co-op placements, side projects, volunteering, freelancing, certifications, entrepreneurship, and difficult assignments all give you something a transcript cannot: evidence that you can operate outside the classroom. And this does not only apply to students. Even if you graduated ten or twenty years ago, you can still ask the same question: what could I pursue over the next year that would make me more capable than I am today?
Interestingly, the data on education is not nearly as hopeless as the cultural mood sometimes suggests. The CTV report discussed in the video noted that Canadians with bachelor’s degrees still earn more on average than those with lower levels of education. That does not mean everyone should go to university, and it certainly does not mean every degree is equally valuable. It does mean that “university is useless” is far too simplistic.
The deeper question is not whether a degree is worth it in the abstract. The better question is whether you are building a life that only works when circumstances cooperate. Jesus compared two men who built houses on different foundations. Both experienced the same storm. The difference was not the weather. It was what they had built on.
The same principle applies here. A credential can be useful, but it should never become the foundation of your identity. Your degree does not determine your worth, and a difficult job market is not a verdict on your life. Education is a tool. Skills are tools. Money is a tool. The person using them matters more.
So if you already have the degree, stop asking whether you got a fair return and start asking what you can build with what you have. If you are deciding whether to pursue one, count the cost carefully and think beyond the credential itself. Develop skills. Seek responsibility. Get experience. Build evidence.
Most importantly, remember that your value was never set by an admissions office, an employer, or the salary attached to your job title. Ephesians 2:10 describes us as God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works. Your life is not simply a return-on-investment calculation.
The degree may be part of your story.
It was never supposed to be the whole story.
