As a double major in political science and accounting, I’ve found myself caught in the growing divide between intellectual exploration and the pressures of career preparation. Universities, once seen as institutions for self-discovery and the pursuit of knowledge, have increasingly shifted their focus to becoming career factories. The narrative that has emerged in recent years centers around the idea that the sole value of a university degree lies in its ability to secure a job. This shift, while seemingly practical in today's competitive job market, has created a crisis among students — including myself.
Just recently, career fairs took over campus. It’s a time when students are encouraged — expected, really — to collect business cards and map out their future careers. For many, it’s seen as a rite of passage, a necessary step toward securing internships or full-time employment. But for others, it’s an overwhelming reminder of the intense pressure placed on us to have everything figured out.
After attending a career fair my first year, I experienced my first-ever panic attack. The sheer weight of expectation, of needing to have a defined career path at 19 while nobody wants to hire international students, was crushing. As someone pursuing a dual degree in different fields, I feel these pressures intensely, albeit in different ways.
Accounting is a field deeply tied to career outcomes. It’s practical, it’s "safe" and it’s widely seen as a direct path to financial stability. Political science, on the other hand, is often viewed with skepticism, unless you plan to go to law school or aim for a career in government. I’ve had countless conversations where people ask, “What are you going to do with that?” as if the subject’s intrinsic value means nothing without a high-paying job attached to it.
Subjects like philosophy, literature or political theory, which might not have clear career pathways, are often dismissed as “irrelevant” or “impractical.” Yet these fields enrich society in ways that cannot be measured by employability statistics alone. They teach us how to think critically, challenge our assumptions, and engage with the world in a meaningful way — skills that are invaluable, not only in the job market but in life.
This career-centric narrative leaves little room for intellectual curiosity, which is ironic given that university should be a time of exploration. The education system seems to have forgotten that higher education is not just about producing employable graduates: It’s about fostering critical thinking, creativity and adaptability. These are skills that truly make a person successful in the long run, both professionally and personally.
This semester I’m enrolled in a humanities seminar titled “Education and the Public Good,” and it has forced me to confront these conflicting pressures head-on. We’ve spent weeks discussing the purpose of higher education, questioning whether universities are still places where students can uncover their passions or whether they've become mere stepping stones to employment.
The discussions have been eye-opening, but they’ve also left me grappling with existential dread. The idea that our education is being reduced to a transactional experience — a degree in exchange for a job — ignores the reason many of us pursue higher education in the first place.
Yes, there are financial realities that cannot be ignored, but reducing a university education to nothing more than a career launch pad devalues the broader benefits of learning. It leaves students like me in a constant state of anxiety, where every class, extracurricular and internship is evaluated solely through the lens of employability or getting to the top. This narrow focus strips away the joy of learning for its own sake, leaving us to question why we’re here in the first place. Am I pursuing a discipline because I’m genuinely fascinated by the complexities of power and governance, or am I just trying to justify a “useful” degree combination?
The consequences of this mindset are dire. Students are burning out at unprecedented rates, overwhelmed by stress and disillusioned by the gap between what they expect university to be and what it has become. Many, like myself, come with the hope of discovering our passions, only to be left feeling disconnected and uncertain about our futures. We become so focused on the next step — landing a job and securing a high salary — that we lose sight of the broader purpose of education.
Universities need to shift their priorities. They should be places where intellectual curiosity is encouraged and celebrated, where students are free to explore diverse subjects without the constant shadow of career pressure looming over them. This means having the freedom to study political science because it fascinates me, and accounting because I appreciate its rigor and structure, without feeling like I need to constantly justify my choices in terms of future earnings.
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This isn’t to say that career preparation isn’t important – it is, but it shouldn’t come at the expense of intellectual development. Career services should complement, not dominate, the university experience. Universities need to strike a balance between preparing students for the workforce and fostering a genuine love of learning.
This begins by kickstarting meaningful campus-wide discussions. It’s crucial to address these questions openly. On Monday, Oct. 14, there was a thought-provoking lecture at Miami University. The talk, titled “Can College Courses Make Us Happier? A Proposal for Transforming Campus Life,” is part of this year’s Altman Program. The lecture offered fresh insights into how academic experiences can be reshaped to foster intellectual growth and personal well-being.
In a world that is rapidly changing, the skills of adaptation, critical analysis and creative thinking will be more valuable than ever. Universities must rise to meet this challenge by expanding their commitment to intellectual engagement, not by narrowing their focus on career preparation. They can help students like me find success not only in our careers but also in our personal and intellectual lives.
And, most importantly, they will instill in us a lifelong love of learning — a far more valuable outcome than any job title or salary could provide.
Anastasija Mladenovska is a third-year political science, accounting and Russian, East European & Eurasian studies triple major from Macedonia. She is involved with the Honors College and is currently serving as a resident assistant. She also volunteers for the League of Women Voters of Oxford.
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