A generation ago, the idea of taking on debt to pay for college could still be sold as a disciplined investment: borrow now, earn more later, and repay the loan with the returns from a degree. For many families, that arithmetic once felt manageable, even prudent. But for parents now trying to do the same for their children, the equation has become much harder to defend. Rising tuition, higher housing and food costs, and a more uncertain labor market have turned what was once described as "good debt" into a far more fragile proposition.
Debt As Investment
The appeal of education borrowing has always rested on a simple premise: a college degree should raise lifetime earnings enough to justify the cost. In theory, that makes student debt different from consumer borrowing. In practice, the quality of that debt depends on the price of the degree, the field of study, the borrower's income prospects and the broader economy. When those variables align, debt can function as a ladder. When they do not, it becomes a drag that can delay homeownership, family formation and retirement saving.
That tension is now sharper than it was for the previous generation. Many parents who financed their own education through loans or part-time work entered a labor market where tuition was lower relative to wages and where a degree more reliably translated into stable middle-class employment. Their children face a more expensive system and, in many countries, a more competitive one. Even where public support exists, it often fails to keep pace with the full cost of attendance, especially once rent, transport and textbooks are included.
The result is a widening gap between the promise of higher education and the financial reality of obtaining it. Families that once expected college to be a straightforward path to mobility are now forced to weigh whether the return still justifies the risk. That calculation is especially difficult for households already carrying mortgages, caregiving costs or other debts. The burden is not only financial; it is psychological, as parents confront the possibility that the same strategy that helped them advance may saddle their children with a heavier starting load.
A Harder Family Equation
The intergenerational dimension matters because education financing is no longer just an individual choice. It is increasingly a household balance-sheet decision. Parents who once expected to help their children through savings, wages or modest borrowing now face a world in which the cost of a degree can rival the price of a home in some markets. That pushes families toward longer repayment horizons, private credit products or difficult trade-offs between one child's education and another's.
This shift also exposes a deeper inequality. Families with assets can absorb tuition shocks, while those without them must borrow more and earlier. In that sense, education debt can amplify existing wealth gaps rather than close them. The same degree may still deliver strong earnings over time, but the path to that payoff has become more punishing, especially for students who must borrow at high rates or who do not complete their programs.
For central bankers and economic policymakers, the issue is not merely social. Student debt influences consumption, savings behavior and labor mobility. Heavily indebted graduates may delay major purchases, suppress household formation and remain more exposed to interest-rate changes. In a higher-rate environment, the cost of servicing debt rises, making older assumptions about "manageable" borrowing less reliable. That matters in economies already trying to balance inflation control with growth and financial stability.
Policy And Payoff
The broader policy question is whether societies still want education to function as a private debt-financed good, or whether they see it increasingly as a public investment that should be supported more directly. Different countries answer that question differently, but the underlying pressure is similar: if the cost of entry keeps rising faster than incomes, the model becomes less sustainable. That can reduce enrollment, deepen inequality and weaken the long-term productivity gains that higher education is supposed to deliver.
For the mother at the center of this story, the dilemma is personal but emblematic. She could treat her own education debt as a calculated risk because the payoff was visible and the burden, while real, was survivable. Her daughter may not be so lucky. The same institution that once offered a path to security now demands a more complex financial strategy, one that many families cannot easily assemble.
That is why the phrase "good debt" is losing some of its force. It still describes a category of borrowing with potential upside, but it no longer guarantees a favorable outcome. In the current environment, the question is not simply whether college is worth it. It is whether the price of admission has risen so far that even a good investment has become too expensive to make.