I’ve noticed that our society seems to be turning against students who choose to attend college after high school. Back in ancient times—when I was a teenager and dinosaurs roamed the earth—college was almost assumed. Some students chose technical schools, but most were headed to a four-year campus.

These days, many young people seem more committed to choosing a college football team than choosing a college education. Allegiance to a university can feel like a matter of religious faith, passed down through generations. Choosing a rival school can cause family shock on par with announcing a change of denomination. Thanksgiving dinners are never quite the same again.

One argument I hear often is that college doesn’t make economic sense. The cost of an in-state four-year degree can range widely—often between $48,000 and $180,000 when tuition, housing, and fees are included. It’s true that not every degree produces the same financial return, and student debt is a real concern. Still, while graduates typically earn more than those with only a high school diploma—and often more than many technical certifications—not all benefits of college can be measured in dollars.

College teaches you how to think.

I’ve heard countless people say something like, “Another day gone and I didn’t use trigonometry,” or substitute any least-favorite class. Maybe that’s true on the surface. But education is not only about specific content; it is about learning how to reason, analyze, question, and argue ideas responsibly. Those habits of mind transfer everywhere. And judging by the state of public discourse, they are in short supply.

In the old television series The Paper Chase, the law professor Charles W. Kingsfield Jr., played memorably by John Houseman, tells his students: “You teach yourselves the law, but I train your minds. You come in here with a skull full of mush; you leave thinking like a lawyer.” The line is harsh, but the point stands. Thinking is difficult work—which is exactly why it matters.

College also teaches you how to live with people who are not like you. When you share a dorm, a classroom, or a late-night study table, you encounter different backgrounds, beliefs, and habits. You learn not just to listen, but to understand why others think and act the way they do. That understanding has no direct price tag, but it has enormous civic value.

You learn discipline and delayed gratification. Getting up for class, managing your time, completing assignments, and caring for yourself without constant supervision build habits that last a lifetime. Learning to do the work now instead of postponing it pays steady dividends long after graduation.

Most of all, you learn that you can stand on your own. You learn that you can adapt, struggle, recover, and succeed without a safety net. That confidence—earned, not given—may be the most valuable lesson of all.

College is not the only good path. But it remains a good one—and worth defending.