When families sit down to map out a young person’s future, the conversation often circles back to one big question: Is four years at a university still the golden ticket it once seemed? Fresh data from Gallup suggests the answer is leaning toward no, with public faith in higher education sinking to levels that would have seemed unthinkable a decade ago.
The latest survey, conducted in August with over 1,000 adults, paints a stark picture. Just 35% of respondents called a college degree “very important,” a plunge from 75% back in 2010. That’s the lowest mark in Gallup’s tracking history, and for the first time, fewer than half of Americans see it as essential. Another 40% labeled it “fairly important,” while a striking 24% dismissed it outright as “not too important”—more than double the 13% who felt that way in 2019. Among college graduates themselves, the numbers barely budge: only 40% rate their own path as very important, with 12% shrugging it off as not too relevant.
This shift isn’t confined to any one corner of society. It cuts across age groups, with roughly a third in every bracket—from fresh high school grads to those in their 50s and beyond—now viewing college as very important. Men, who once trailed women in enthusiasm for degrees, have seen their support crater from 65% in 2013 to 29% today. Even women, long the staunchest backers, have dipped below 50%. Racial lines show a similar story: While people of color have historically prized higher education more than white respondents, that edge has eroded, leaving less than half in those groups calling it very important.
Lydia Saad, Gallup’s director of social research, lays out the breadth of this change in her analysis. “Women, people of color, college graduates and Democrats have traditionally been more likely than their counterparts to value higher education, and that remains the case today,” she observes. Yet the momentum has flipped. She continues, “However, even among these pro-college groups, less than half now say college is very important.” What was once a bedrock assumption—college as the surefire path to stability—now feels optional, even risky, to many in these core constituencies.
For Democrats, who have long championed expanded access to universities, the drop-off stings particularly. Support for college as very important has tumbled since 2013, with 49% now settling for “fairly important” and just 9% seeing it as irrelevant. Republicans, meanwhile, are twice as likely to call it not too important (39%) as very important (20%), a gap that reflects broader frustrations with campus culture and costs. Parents aren’t immune either: Among those with kids under 18, 38% rate college as very important, mirroring the national average, while 21% wave it off.
Saad points to a mix of forces driving this sea change, ones that go beyond partisan gripes. “While the new survey didn’t explore the reasons directly, the high cost of college, recent attention to the benefits of trade schools, the growth of online learning and microcredentials, and the potential for revolutionary changes in the labor market presented by recent advancements in AI are all possibilities,” she writes. Take the debt load: The average borrower owes around $30,000 upon graduation, a figure that’s ballooned alongside tuition hikes outpacing inflation for years. Meanwhile, trade programs—think welding, plumbing, or electrical work—often wrap up in months, cost a fraction, and lead straight to jobs paying $50,000 or more right out of the gate. Enrollment in vocational training has jumped 16% since 2020, per the National Center for Education Statistics, as young people eye paths that deliver quicker returns.
AI’s rise adds another layer. Tools like advanced language models are reshaping white-collar fields once reserved for degree-holders, from marketing to basic coding. A 2024 McKinsey report estimated that up to 45% of work activities could be automated in the coming decade, hitting entry-level office roles hardest. Why sink six figures into a general studies degree when microcredentials from platforms like Coursera or Google can certify skills in AI ethics or data analysis for under $500?
This isn’t just numbers on a page; it’s reshaping family decisions and economic realities. Non-graduates now split evenly on college’s value—31% very important, 32% not too—while a Lumina Foundation-Gallup study from earlier this year found 89% of those without degrees still see some credential as worthwhile, just not necessarily the traditional four-year grind. Community colleges and apprenticeships are filling the gap, with 59% of parents hoping their kids pursue some postsecondary path, but only 40% aiming straight for a bachelor’s.
The poll’s timing feels poignant, coming as enrollment dips for a third straight year and stories of underemployed grads flood social media. It’s a reminder that education’s worth lies in what it builds, not the parchment it awards. As Americans weigh options, the old script—high school to college to cubicle—is giving way to something more pragmatic: skills that pay, paths that fit, and futures earned on merit, not loans. If Gallup’s right, this rethink could spark real reform, steering resources toward what works for working families.
Two Storms, One Harvest
Every food crisis in living memory has been a one-shock event. The 2008 price spike was a commodity bubble. The 2020 shortages were a logistics failure. The 2022 grain scare was a war on one exporter’s ports. Each time, the system bent, adjusted, and recovered, and each time the experts assured us afterward that global markets are simply too big and too diversified to fail.
What nobody in Washington seems eager to discuss is that 2026 is shaping up to be something the modern food system has never actually faced. Two independent shocks, one climatic and one geopolitical, are converging on the same harvest cycle at the same time. Not sequentially. Simultaneously.
Start with the weather. The Pacific Ocean is currently building toward what forecasters now openly call a record event. NOAA’s Climate Prediction Center puts the odds of at least a strong El Niño near 88 percent, with roughly two in three odds it reaches “very strong” status, the tier reserved for perhaps three or four events in the entire satellite era. Every major global model now projects a median peak in Super El Niño territory, and most of them project it exceeding the 2015-16 event, which until now held the modern record. Sea surface anomalies were already brushing the super threshold in mid-July, months before these events normally peak. The atmosphere has already shifted into El Niño mode, and the event is forecast to crest in late fall and early winter.
This is not about “climate change.” It’s about the standard cycles of weather, and the cycle we’re currently in is one that has likely devastated societies in the past. We’re better prepared as a society today, but not all Americans are equally prepared.
Serious households have started doing the quiet math on their own. Grocery bills tell part of the story, and the forecast maps tell the rest, which is why long-term food storage has moved from fringe hobby to mainstream line item in the family budget, with established suppliers like Heaven’s Harvest seeing demand from people who five years ago would have rolled their eyes at the idea. That instinct is not paranoia. It is pattern recognition, and the pattern is worth walking through carefully.
Editor’s Note: Heaven’s Harvest IS a sponsor, but the warnings of this article are real and would be written even if we didn’t have a survival food sponsor. With that said, those who take advantage of what they offer can use promo code “Patriot” for 15% off.
The Fertilizer Clock Is Already Running
While the Pacific warms, the second shock has been unfolding in the Strait of Hormuz. The conflict with Iran turned the world’s most important energy chokepoint into a contested waterway, and the consequences reach far beyond the gas pump. Roughly a third of global fertilizer trade moves through Hormuz, and the disruption sent urea prices up 86 percent year over year by March, with a 53 percent jump in a single month.
The World Bank projects energy prices rising about 24 percent in 2026 and fertilizer about 31 percent. By its own accounting, fertilizer prices ran 35 percent higher in the first five months of this year than the same period last year.
Here is the mechanism the nightly news will not explain. Fertilizer is not a grocery item. It is a time-delayed input. The nitrogen a farmer in Iowa or Punjab could not afford to apply this spring does not show up as a problem this spring. It shows up as a thinner harvest six to twelve months later.
The World Bank’s own food security brief concedes that the effects of reduced applications earlier this season “are likely to become visible only later in harvest outcomes.” Translate that from institutional language into plain English and it means this. The damage is already done, it is already in the ground, and we are simply waiting for it to arrive on the shelf.
Now check the calendar. Six to twelve months from the spring planting season lands us squarely in late 2026 and early 2027. Which is precisely when the strongest El Niño in the instrumental record is forecast to peak, bringing its signature droughts to Southeast Asia, Australia, southern Africa, northern Brazil, and South Asia, the very regions that grow the world’s rice, sugar, and oilseeds.
The World Bank warns openly that a strong El Niño “could disrupt multiple crop belts simultaneously” on top of the conflict-driven input costs. Their baseline projection assumes the Middle East disruptions ease by autumn. What in the last two years of Middle East history suggests that assumption is safe?
The System Has No Slack Left
The comfortable answer is that global markets always adjust. But adjustment requires slack, and the slack is gone. Global cereal production is expected to decline from last year’s records even before El Niño does its work. The UN World Food Programme, hardly a den of right-wing preppers, is calling this the most significant disruption to its supply chains since Covid and the invasion of Ukraine, and its supply chain director put the stakes bluntly.
Today’s supply chain challenges are tomorrow’s hunger crisis.
There is also a political dimension that markets cannot price. When food gets scarce, governments do not behave like economists. They behave like politicians. Export bans, hoarding mandates, and panic buying at the national level turned the modest rice shortfall of 2008 into a global crisis, and analysts are already warning that import-dependent nations are the first dominoes.
The 2015-16 Super El Niño, a far weaker event than what is now forecast, threw tens of millions into food stress across Africa and Asia. This one is projected to be stronger, and it arrives with fertilizer already rationed by price and shipping lanes already contested by missiles.
What Joseph Knew
Scripture does not treat preparation for lean years as faithlessness. It treats it as wisdom delivered in advance to those willing to act on it.
Behold, there come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt: And there shall arise after them seven years of famine; and all the plenty shall be forgotten in the land of Egypt.
Joseph did not respond to that warning with a hashtag or a committee. He stored grain during the years of abundance, and when the famine came, Egypt stood while its neighbors begged. The lesson is not that famine is certain. It is that the time to prepare is precisely when preparation still looks optional.
Nobody who filled a pantry in a year of plenty has ever regretted it, and nobody standing in an empty aisle has ever been glad he waited for certainty.
None of this calls for panic, and panic is the enemy of sound judgment anyway. It calls for the same unglamorous prudence our grandparents considered ordinary. Keep some cash margin, know your local growers, and put real food in deep storage while it is cheap and available, because the entire arc of this story is that cheap and available is a closing window.
Families looking for a straightforward place to start can visit Heaven’s Harvest and use promo code Patriot for 15 percent off long-term storable food. The forecasts may yet soften, the strait may yet reopen, and we should pray they do. But hope is a fine thing to hold and a foolish thing to eat.
