It feels almost impossible to avoid the news at the momentwhen it comes to discussions about higher education. From debates surrounding so-called “Mickey Mouse degrees” to ongoing headlines about the student loan system, the public conversation around university has become increasingly pessimistic. For many students, especially those already studying or about to graduate, these conversations can feel exhausting.
Speaking as a current postgraduate student on a taught master’s course, the constant stream of headlines about debt, uncertain job markets, and the supposed value of different degrees can feel overwhelming. For many of us, the decision has already been made. We have signed the contracts for student loans, committed years of study, and invested time, energy and money into reaching this point. Yet instead of celebrating that achievement, students are often met with warnings about the financial burden they now carry and doubts about whether it will even lead to stable employment.
For years throughout school and college, students are encouraged to pursue higher education. University is presented as a pathway to opportunity, personal development and better career prospects. However, once students actually arrive at university, the reality can look very different.
One of the most pressing challenges is simply the cost of living while studying. Maintenance loans are intended to help students support themselves, yet in many cases they fall far short of what is actually needed. Universities are often located in large cities where rent prices are high, and students are frequently advised not to take on part-time work in order todedicate enough time to their studies. In practice, however, living solely off the maximum maintenance loan is often extremely difficult.
This problem is only intensified by the ongoing cost of living crisis. What used to be a relatively inexpensive food shop can now feel drastically more expensive. Many students will recognise the experience of walking into a supermarket expecting to spend £30 on a week’s groceries, only to leave with far fewer items than before. When rent, transport, food and other everyday costs continue to rise, the idea that financial support is sufficient begins to feel increasingly unrealistic.
At the same time, the conversation around student loans continues to dominate public debate. Stories frequently appear suggesting that graduates may never fully repay their loans, or that inflation will cause debts to grow rapidly over time. For students who are already navigating the financial pressures of university life, these narratives can make higher education feel less like an opportunity and more like a long-term financial burden. In many ways, this system seems to benefit those privileged enough to pay their tuition fees upfront, allowing them to avoid carrying the weight of student debt long after graduation. Meanwhile, those who rely most on financial support are often the ones left facing decades of repayments – a burden that falls hardest on those who could least afford it in the first place.
The pressure does not necessarily end after graduation either. In an increasingly competitive job market, many employers now expect postgraduate qualifications for roles that once only required an undergraduate degree. This creates a situation where students feel encouraged to pursue further study in order to remain competitive, despite the additional financial cost that comes with another year of tuition fees and living expenses.
Alongside this comes the familiar question often raised by family members or acquaintances: “Why not just do an apprenticeship instead?” While apprenticeships can be an excellent route for many people, the suggestion that students should simply avoid university altogether overlooks an important reality. Many professions still require degrees as a minimum qualification. For students who aspire to work in fields such as education, research, healthcare, or academia, higher education is not simply an optional extra – it is a necessary step.
Yet even after completing these qualifications, some graduates find themselves competing against applicants with multiple postgraduate degrees. In some cases, candidates report being turned away from jobs not because of a lack of ability or experience, but because another applicant holds additional qualifications. The result is a sense that the bar is constantly moving higher, leaving students feeling as though their efforts are never quite enough.
All of this raises an important question about the way we talk about access to higher education. Universities and policymakers frequently emphasise the importance of widening participation and making education accessible to students from all backgrounds. In principle, this is an admirable and important goal. Education should absolutely be something that more people can access and benefit from.
However, access does not simply mean being accepted onto a course. True accessibility must also include the ability to realistically sustain yourself while studying, without constant financial strain or anxiety about how to cover basic living costs. If students are technically able to attend university but struggle to afford rent, food, or other essentials, then the idea of equal access becomes far more complicated.
None of this is to suggest that higher education lacks value. University remains a place where students gain knowledge, develop critical thinking skills, build networks, and discover new perspectives. For many people, it is also a deeply rewarding and transformative experience.
But if widening participation is truly the goal, then the broader system surrounding higher education must also be considered. Financial support, the expectations of employers, and the realities of the job market all shape whether education genuinely feels accessible or simply theoretically available.
As students continue to navigate rising living costs, increasing qualification expectations, and the growing weight of student debt, it is worth asking whether the current system truly supports the people it encourages to enter it.
Because if access to education comes with barriers that make participation increasingly difficult to sustain, we must question whether we are truly widening opportunity, or simply widening the number of students expected to carry the burden.
Because education should open doors, not leave students wondering whether the price of walking through them was simply too high.