No, President Biden’s federal student loan forgiveness plan isn’t fair. That’s OK
The middle road isn’t for the faint of heart, at least in politics. But that’s precisely the path President Joe Biden prefers to travel.
On Wednesday, in an announcement so telegraphed and balloon tested that it hardly seemed like breaking news at all, the Biden administration released its long-awaited plan for student loan relief. The plan calls for canceling up to $10,000 in federal student loan debt for borrowers earning up to $125,000 a year, and up to $20,000 in loan cancellation for borrowers earning up to $125,000 a year who received Pell grants. For households, the income requirement to qualify for forgiveness jumps to $250,000 annually, and the plan also stands to help families who have taken out loans on their children’s behalf.
It is, to be diplomatic, a pragmatic, sensible approach to a contentious issue — targeted at those who need the help most. And therein lies the challenge for the president. Who, really, will the Biden plan satisfy in the court of public opinion? With millions of Americans struggling under the weight of federal student loan debt — some 44 million people in the U.S. collectively owe roughly $1.7 trillion, according to CNBC — for many, the relief will be just that. But the plan also risks being far too modest to assuage the louder, more aggressively left wing of the party, not to mention those with far more college debt. It’s also surefire fodder for conservatives who often seem to despise higher education (despite so many of their leaders having attended prestigious institutions like Harvard, Princeton and Yale) and see any federal debt relief as an affront to everything good and decent and just in the world, like bootstraps, and the mythical meritocracy, and harsh consequences.
In short, the much-hyped plan feels like yet another attempt to find compromise where none is possible. Biden is trying to strike a balance and find sure footing, but he’s searching for terrain that doesn’t exist.
Because here’s the thing: the debate over federal student loan relief isn’t a debate at all. It’s not about competing ideas, really, or whether loan forgiveness makes sense for the country. The fracture spreads from that insidious, pervasive — and, yes, capitalist — American mindset that we’re all in this for ourselves, which is a rallying cry that the Republican party, in particular, loves to drape in the flag and call freedom.
Help someone else? Someone different from me? Blasphemy. They made their choices. Every man for himself.
Some will tell you with a straight face that this is how society best operates — that if everyone looks out for Number One everything takes care of itself and that hard work is the great equalizer. But the current state of things — whether we’re talking about the obscene wealth divide, the number of people who can’t afford insulin, or the number of homeless on the street — suggests otherwise.
The student loan saga is no different. While forgiving predatory loans for those suffocating in college debt will allow millions of Americans to live better lives while contributing more to their communities and local economies — enriching all of us in the process — all we can fixate on is whether or not it’s fair.
Spoiler: It’s not fair, at least in the literal sense of the word. It won’t directly benefit those who have already paid off college debt or anyone who chose another path in life. The price of a college education has skyrocketed over the last 40 years, to the point where working your way through school at a 4-year institution is virtually impossible. There’s little doubt that Biden’s plan offers a different deal than the one received by those who came before.
And that’s OK.
Sometimes, helping your neighbor makes your whole neighborhood stronger.
Sometimes, doing something about the exploitation of others is worth it, even if you have nothing immediate to gain.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s not all about you.
This story was originally published August 25, 2022 at 5:00 AM.
