In recent years, student loan forgiveness has become one of the most contested issues in national economic discourse. Framed by critics as fiscally irresponsible and by supporters as a moral necessity, the debate often centers on cost without fully interrogating how that cost is defined. As an economics major with a focus in accounting, I have come to understand student loan debt not as an unavoidable consequence of higher education, but as the result of deliberate policy and accounting choices that reflect whose futures are deemed worthy of investment. From an economic perspective, higher education is widely recognized as a driver of productivity, innovation, and long-term growth. Yet, unlike other public investments, education is increasingly treated as a private burden rather than a collective good. Student loans are justified as a means of expanding access, but in practice they delay homeownership, suppress entrepreneurship, and constrain career flexibility—particularly for students from working-class and historically marginalized backgrounds. The opportunity cost of this debt is not abstract; it manifests in postponed milestones and narrowed choices.

Accounting further clarifies why forgiveness is so controversial. On federal balance sheets, student loans are recorded as assets, meaning forgiveness is framed as a loss rather than a correction. This framing shapes public perception. When corporate tax breaks, military spending, or financial bailouts are approved, they are often justified as necessary investments with long- term returns. Student loan forgiveness, however, is reduced to a line-item expense, stripped of its broader economic and social benefits. The numbers are not neutral—they tell the story policymakers choose to prioritize.

For Black students, particularly those attending HBCUs, the stakes are even higher. Black borrowers consistently take on more student loan debt and face greater difficulty repaying it due to persistent racial wealth gaps. HBCUs continue to produce graduates who contribute meaningfully to their communities despite chronic underfunding, yet the students who sustain these institutions are asked to shoulder disproportionate financial risk. When education is treated as a liability instead of a public good, the burden falls hardest on those already navigating structural inequities.

This debate has reshaped how I view my education. Studying economics and accounting has shown me that financial systems are constructed, not inevitable. What we choose to forgive, fund, or write off reveals our values. If we can account for corporate losses as necessary risks, we can also account for student loan forgiveness as an investment in human capital. The question is not whether we can afford to support students, but whether we are willing to redefine education as something worth balancing the books for.