Should I stay or should I go?: Are students ditching their dreams in pursuit of financial security?

Whenever I told my career advisors, teachers, and family members that I wanted to enrol in a History and Languages degree at university, I would habitually follow up with "and maybe do a law conversion after". My love of writing became more or less an afterthought, secondary to “sensible” career decisions. Populating my consciousness was the stereotype of the starving artist or Dickensian images of me, arriving at my parents’ doors, regretfully uttering "please sir can I have some more" (money) as I navigated a career in the arts or media. 

The origins of such a pervasive stereotype can be found in the romantic period, where it was believed that one must be lowly and woe betide to produce spellbinding art and literature or to truly capture the essence of the human condition. The fossils that romanticised poverty and heartbreak likely failed to consider that, in reality, financial insecurity makes people much less likely to consider a career producing sonnets and novellas. Heartbreak, on the other hand, well, that I cannot possibly comment on.

It is no secret that Generation Z is predicted to be poorer than its predecessors, with the share of UK homeowners under the age of twenty-five falling from 24% of households in 2004 to only 10% in 2023. According to a survey by Deloitte in 2022, a third of Gen Z worries about the cost of living above all else, and more than a quarter expressed doubts about the potential to retire comfortably. The ongoing question of whether to "follow your dreams" or to choose a career that will guarantee future financial stability is at the forefront of many young graduates’ minds. 

As a teenager, I whiled away the hours in my secondary school maths classes by fixing my eyes on the hand of the clock as it plodded towards the hour of my departure. Despite my boredom or distaste for algebra or trigonometry, sandwiched between successive yawns, were recurring thoughts that a zeal for maths might mean a more clear-cut route to a “stable” career like accountancy. It might mean increased autonomy, a mortgage, or the ability to take my parents to the Maldives to thank them for their years of love and support.

Now, this is not to say that you cannot make a living in the arts. It does, however, remain a field fortified with nepotism and low-paid internships in London, which students from outside the capital must attempt to besiege with talent and dedication alone. The arts are like a gated neighbourhood that I fear many hesitate to traverse when getting a glimpse of the price of a property within. Overhearing whisperings of ‘it's not what you know but who you know’ amongst its inhabitants is similarly discouraging. 

The Economist reported a trend among the students of Ivy League schools in the United States, whereby gifted students in humanities or the arts ditched literature or history in favour of a corporate career. Previously, I might have been tempted to criticise them, but in an increasingly uncertain and unaffordable world, selling your soul to the corporate devil is becoming at least partially understandable. 

It is a tale as old as time – students wield their Communist Manifestos until the coveted day that a grad scheme at KPMG beckons. As students at a red-brick university, we can all attest to this. And while the outer world plunges itself into uncharted waters as our planet nears irreversible climate catastrophe and sycophants extol the inauguration of fascists, you would be more or less forgiven for wanting to (colloquially speaking) cover your rear end. 

Does this exonerate me from my guilt about occasionally considering a corporate career? Of course not. A large part of me and my ghost of Christmas Past finds the whole face-off loathsome. Nevertheless, our collective complacency or creative disengagement is, in part, fuelled by the inevitable onslaught of adulthood coming in the form of rising rents, student loans, and electricity bills. 

According to the Office for National Statistics, 16.4% of creative workers came from a working class background between 1953 and 1962, which has regressed to a measly 7.9% as of 2022. Equally, in 2019, of the 100 most influential news editors and broadcasters, 43% went to fee-paying schools and 38% of the wealthiest members of the TV, film, and music industries also attended an independent school.

So, forgive me for potentially not wanting to scrape by while living in a mould-infested, rat-riddled cavern, paying rent to a machiavellian “have you tried a dehumidifier?” landlord as I attempt to pursue a career in the arts. Last time I checked, a large chunk of the people that work in that industry didn’t have to either. 

Likewise, Noel Gallagher remarked that there will be no other bands like Oasis anymore, stating that "working class kids can’t afford to do it now." Ultimately, he has a point, and I think it would be deeply out of touch for me to reprimand people for cashing in their dreams to pay the bills. What is important is that we continue to encourage people to pursue what really makes them tick rather than vehemently criticising them for trying to establish some kind of security in a world that is quite frankly, well, batshit insane. 

Irrespective, this does not change the slightly heartbreaking nature of my admittedly very jaded stance, and it does not make it any easier for me to say that for young graduates educated in state schools, the societal message remains clear: expression is exclusive and it's not for you.