Higher Ed’s Enrollment “Slope”: Let’s Pause the Fear Mongering

Search “enrollment cliff,” and you’ll find an avalanche of scary higher ed articles. For example, Forbes recently published this:

The Enrollment Cliff: How Fewer Applicants Are Reshaping Higher Education

Fewer applicants! Reshaping higher ed! Sounds scary, right?

But what’s actually scary is the lack of creative thinking and creative questioning that goes into the enrollment cliff. Because the enrollment cliff DOESN’T actually exist. Rather, it’s a prediction from the Western Interstate Commission for Higher Education (WICHE), one that looks far into the future:

The latest available data confirm[1] while there are periods of projected relative stability (e.g., 2028–29 through 2034–35), the overall national trend is a downward slope to below 3.4 million [high school graduates] by 2041. Based on the most recent available data, WICHE projects that 2041 will see about 13% fewer graduates than in 2025.

Higher ed writers toss the enrollment cliff out there as “fact” (it isn’t). “Definitiveness” is baked into their doomsday scenarios, but even WICHE admits:

The projections of future enrollments and graduates are built on an assumption that trends and policy changes affecting enrollment — including immigration, mortality, retention, and progression — will continue.[2] In the near term, this generally holds true, but like any model of the future, the farther out the forecast reaches, the greater the uncertainty[3] inherent in the projections.

“Cliff” Is a Fishy Word

So what exactly does this future “enrollment cliff” look like?[4] As plotted by WICHE, it looks like this:

With this visual, we learn that it’s not really a “cliff”;[5] rather, it’s a slope, one that inches downward (potentially) over the next 15 years. Also, the enrollment slope doesn’t drop off into oblivion; instead, the number of 2041 high school graduates (3.4M) ends up being similar to the number of high school graduates in 2010. So how damaging is this return to 2010? Potentially not damaging at all:

The National Education Center reported that in 2010, total undergraduate enrollment reached 18,082,427, which is the highest enrollment ever in American history.

The Unspoken Upslope

So in 2010, with around 3.4M high school graduates, undergraduate enrollment set a historic record. Could history repeat itself during the enrollment slope? If you ask today’s higher ed writers, the answer is a resounding “no.” That’s because the “scary” narrative — the one repeated over and over again — is that fewer and fewer people are going to college. It’s a frightening plot line, one that’s renewed and re-dramatized by so many writers:

The higher education landscape in the United States is facing an existential crisis. A perfect storm of demographic shifts, changing perceptions about the value of a college degree, and financial instability is threatening the survival of many colleges and universities. … This follows a 15% drop in college enrollment between 2010 and 2021, as reported by The Hechinger Report. — The Enrollment Cliff: How Fewer Applicants Are Reshaping Higher Education (Forbes)

This raises a couple questions: 1) What exactly are the “changing perceptions about the value of a college degree”? And 2) Why is a 2025 Forbes article limiting its “scary” enrollment data (i.e., “an existential crisis”) to “between 2010 and 2021”? Answers can be found in the not-so-scary and very positive enrollment data from 2022–2024. According to the National Student Clearinghouse Research Center:

• Total postsecondary enrollment is up 4.5 percent this fall [2024] (+817,000; Figure 1.2). Undergraduate enrollment neared 16 million, just 1.0 percent below 2019 levels (+4.7%, +716,000 this fall), while graduate enrollment grew to 3.2 million (+3.3%, +100,000).
• Freshmen enrollment grew 5.5 percent this fall [2024] (+130,000; see Figure 3.1). Building on last fall’s increases, the growth was strongest at community colleges, which added 63,000 freshmen (+7.1%). Overall 18-year-old freshmen also saw enrollment gains this fall (+3.4%, +59,000).
• Undergraduate enrollment grew 2.5 percent in spring 2024 compared to the previous year (+359,000) …. This is the second consecutive semester of year-over-year enrollment growth, continuing the trend from last fall’s [2023] 1.2 percent increase, following years of decline during the pandemic.
• [In fall 2022], freshman enrollment … [began] to rise, increasing by about 97,000 (+4.3%) compared to the previous fall.

So versus the “predicted” enrollment slope, there’s a counterfactual that typically goes untold: it’s that potentially, at the same time as the “scary” slope, higher ed might also be entering a post-pandemic rebound.

A Positive in the Negative

As mentioned above, the enrollment slope (a future-facing prediction) is “built on an assumption that trends and policy changes affecting enrollment … will continue.” One trend that seems unaccounted for is college closures.

As reported by the Hechinger Report[6]:

In the first nine months of 2024, 28 degree-granting institutions closed [this number is now around 45], compared with 15 in all of 2023 …. Nearly 300 colleges and universities offering an associate degree or higher closed between 2008 and 2023.

So between 2008 and 2024 — about 15 years — approximately 350 colleges closed. Let’s say that trend slows with a hypothetical enrollment rebound and only 150 more colleges close over the next 15 years (through 2041). And let’s say (thinking conservatively) that, on average, about 1000 students are impacted per closure … so from 2008 to 2041, that’s about 450K total students.[7]

As a higher ed advocate, it disturbs me to see colleges close, but at the same time, this appears to be a culling of the weak. As Dick Startz, writing for The Brookings Institution, observed:

Some institutions are at risk from enrollment pressures, while most aren’t. My institution, for example, receives over 110,000 applications. It’s not at any risk from enrollment declines, nor are other highly selective colleges. Yet, there are many, many colleges that are quite small and not very selective and therefore at real risk from enrollment drops. The typical college in the United States is neither a football power nor a research factory. Half the colleges in the U.S. enroll fewer than 2,200 students. In fact, nearly a third of U.S. colleges enroll under 1,000 students. Some of these places are vulnerable.

In discussing college closures, I have to begrudgingly admit there’s a silver lining. With every closure, there’s now more students for the survivors, which is a potential offset to the enrollment slope. For example (a very elementary example), if 4 colleges want to average 25 enrollments each, they must recruit from a pool of (at least) 100 students. But with a 2 college reduction, the remaining 2 colleges only need a pool of 50 students to average 25 enrollments.

The point is that even with a drop in high school graduates, there will be a corresponding drop in college opportunities.[8] Thus, even if there’s fewer students to choose from (i.e., a smaller pool), colleges will have less competition for these students, which could have a positive impact on their applications/enrollment.

Some People Just Can’t Forsee the Positive

And then there’s this: if the enrollment slope occurs as predicted, what, in terms of future enrollment, is a proportionate offset or success? As most higher ed writers like to report, enrollment trended downward from 2010 to 2021:

However, as reported by the National Student Clearinghouse Research Center, undergraduate enrollment has (right now) rebounded to nearly “16 million, just 1.0 percent below 2019 levels.” So from here, let’s say that over the next 15 years, college enrollment continues its rebound but at a pace (on average) of just +.75 percent/year. If this happens (at the same time as the enrollment slope), total undergraduate enrollment in 2041 will reach about 17.8M. At 17.8M, enrollment would be similar to total graduate enrollment in 2012–17,735,638 — when total high school graduates (according to WICHE) equaled 3,466,888 (i.e., about the same total as WICHE’s projected total for 2041).

So would 17.8M in 2041 be a successful offset to the enrollment slope?

Some might argue that 2041 enrollment shouldn’t be looking 25 years into the past. However, this shallow thinking refuses to acknowledge: 1) the pandemic, its impact on higher education, and the time it takes to rebound from a cataclysmic event, and 2) the enrollment slope and its projected impact on the college application pool. It also ignores the fact that at 17.8M, 2041 would equal the 3rd highest undergraduate enrollment in American history (only slightly less than the highest enrollment — 18,082,427 — in 2010).

It’s Easier to Scare Than to Question

Let me say, I’m not trying to disprove the enrollment slope. As with any negative projection, it’s best to prepare, to put in place proactive strategies and defensive plans (e.g., lower tuition, new academic programs, expanded applicant pools).[9] Thankfully, many universities and thought leaders are diving into this.

However, when it comes to the enrollment slope, few ask questions. Few think outside the box. Few challenge what merely “could be.” Instead, most gulp the Kool-Aid, which is a hallmark of modern (lazy) journalism. I especially see this in higher ed, where fear-mongering writers latch onto a negative data point and zealously worship it as the Gospel.[10]

[1] While it’s just one word, “confirm” feels like a very irresponsible word. “Confirm” is defined as “establish the truth or correctness of.” In the same sentence, WICHE uses the contradictory word “projected,” which is defined as “estimated or forecast on the basis of current trends or data.” How can an “estimate or forecast” that looks 15 years into the future be “established as true or correct” in 2025?

[2] Of course, WICHE’s future projections could end up leaning more negative rather than more positive. But that reinforces the point: the enrollment cliff is a “good guess,” not a factual reality. And being merely a “good guess” means that WICHE might be off on their prediction/numbers, which is something that has actually happened:

Although declines in total K-12 enrollments were previously projected, the actual decline evident in recent years is slightly deeper than previously projected. Overall, the best answer, which would come with a number of caveats, is that the pandemic appears to relate to a slightly lower projected number of future graduates. The total number of graduates is about 1% fewer in 2037 than WICHE previously projected.

[3] For a taste of “uncertainty,” consider WICHE’s 2016 projections “through 2013–14 to 2031–32” vs. WICHE’s 2025 projections (see below). The first thing that stands out is the striking difference between the 2016 graduate graph and the 2025 graduate graph. Apparently, the earlier graph (and its projections) didn’t hold true to form. The second thing that stands out is the predicted peak. In 2016, WICHE predicted — with shocking “certainty” — that 2024–2025 high school graduates would peak at exactly 3,561,051. However, 10 years later in 2025, WICHE adjusted that peak upward to 3.9M. This means that the 2016 WICHE projection under-calculated the 2024–2025 peak by a whopping 400,000 graduates. This further underscores WICHE’s warning (which is so often ignored) that “the farther out the forecast reaches, the greater the uncertainty inherent in the projections.”

[4] It’s somewhat important to note that the “enrollment cliff” is a mislabeling of data.* The term was born from WICHE’s data on “projected high school graduates.” While college enrollment and high school graduates are linked, this doesn’t change the fact that the enrollment cliff is actually a “guess” (i.e., future college enrollment) extended from another “guess” (i.e., future high school graduates).** Higher ed writers consistently cite WICHE as proof of the enrollment cliff, but WICHE barely touches upon the possible “implications” to higher ed and college enrollment. In their most recent report, WICHE spends just 6 pages (out of 88) and 2 illustrations (out of 41) discussing higher education. The rest focuses on “Projections of High School Graduates.”

*This is a point that WICHE clearly acknowledges:

News reports and policy briefs routinely refer to the pending decline in the school-age population as “an enrollment cliff.”

** WICHE’s “pending decline in the school-age population” is a barometer of college enrollment; however, it’s not equivalent to college enrollment. A decline in high school graduates doesn’t automatically result in a proportionate decline (i.e., “cliff”) in college enrollment.

[5] Does WICHE’s graph accurately represent a scary “cliff,” which is defined as “a steep and often sheer rock face”? WICHE’s answer is “no”:

[T]he overall national trend is a downward slope to below 3.4 million [high school graduates] by 2041. … While the cliff metaphor is useful to illustrate the impending demographic shift for policymakers, the reality will be a slower and steadier decline, which has important implications for institutions of higher education, workforce training systems, and state and federal policymakers.

[6] I loathfully cite the Hechinger Report which is one of the most biased, one-side, and fear-inducing publications in higher ed.

[7] It might be pointed out, and correctly so, that many of these closures are for-profit colleges:

The increase in closures is mostly driven by the closure of for-profit schools. About half the for-profit closures were vocational schools that operated below the associate degree level. — Dick Startz, The Brookings Institution

With this in mind, someone might argue that these closures will have little to no impact on nonprofit (public/private) college applicants. However, a lack of choice is still a lack of choice, and a lack of for-profit options will drive some (maybe many) students into nonprofit universities. Moreover, the admission that these closures are mostly for-profits destroys the tired (and false) narrative that higher education (in the traditional sense) is dying. To illustrate this false narrative, consider how the Hechinger Report broadly frames the closure story:

Sentence 1: “College enrollment has been declining for more than a decade, and that means that many institutions are struggling to pay their bills.” [Oh no, this sounds like it applies to all colleges!]

Sentence 2: “A growing number of them are making the difficult decision to close.” [Oh no, a “growing number” are closing? Colleges like the University of Kansas and Texas A&M, right?]

Sentence 9: “For-profit operators ran more than 60 percent of those colleges and universities.” [This information is essential to understanding which “colleges” are “making the difficult decision to close.” So why is this critical distinction buried in the middle of the article?]

[8] Along with college closures, there’s another negative trend that could prove positive (for some) during the enrollment slope … program cuts:

Most colleges are at no risk of closing, though some small schools and schools in some states may well be at risk. I suspect the real issue is going to be program eliminations and accompanying reductions-in-force as some schools downsize or rightsize even as others are growing. — Dick Startz, The Brookings Institution

Again, I hate to see program cuts — and corresponding job eliminations — but some colleges will actually benefit from these cuts. For example, some universities will eliminate the arts during a downward trend, but others will position themselves as pro-arts universities. Fewer arts programs means fewer choices for students, which means more applications for universities that continue to invest in the arts.

[9] Improving higher education can be a silver lining to the enrollment slope. Higher ed is far from perfect, and the pressures from an enrollment slope might (hopefully) spark changes/creativity in terms of academics, tuition, and spending.

[10] A glaring example of this is “student loan debt.” To illustrate, in her book Burdened: Student Debt and the Making of an American Crisis, author Ryann Liebenthal cites this scary data point:

Student debt “afflicts one in six American adults.”

What Liebenthal doesn’t reveal is that “one in six” falls upon a vast spectrum:

• “one in six” includes any person(s) with low/nominal student debt.
• “one in six” includes any person(s) with trade school debt.
• “one in six” includes 40, 50, 60, and 70 year olds (not just 18–24 year olds).
• “one in six” includes doctors, lawyers, and post-grad professionals (FYI … borrowing rates and average debt are higher among graduate and professional degree students than undergraduates).
• “one in six” doesn’t reveal the number of Americans who manage their student debt successfully and without issue.
• “one in six” doesn’t reveal the number of Americans who graduate from college with zero debt.

Moreover, when you dig past Liebenthal’s single, scary data point, you further discover that the “ones” in “one in six” are far from equal in their borrowing:

• 32% of borrowers (about a 1/3) currently have less than $10,000 in debt. 7.7 million of these borrowers have an average balance of $7,200. 6.8 million have an average balance of $2,800.
• 53% of borrowers (over half) currently have less than $20,000 in debt (well below the national average). Of the 24 million borrowers who owe less than $20,000, the debt average ranges from $14,600 to $2,800.
• A mere 10% carry nearly 50% of America’s student loan debt ($80,000 to $200,000 or more). This means that just 4.8M debtors (out of 45.2M) account for half of America’s student loan debt.