How perpetual students harm the Greek economy

The title is slightly misleading, as I realize there’s many ways perpetual students—somewhat derogatorily referred to as “αιώνιοι φοιτητές” by Greeks—harm the Greek economy. I’ll discuss just one of them, which has a measurable short-term impact. I’d even go as far as saying it’s an important factor most Greeks should be concerned with, but I admittedly have insufficient evidence to back that claim up. I’m going with a slight gut feeling on this one.

This is the kind of idea Greeks get when you mention students

The basic idea stems from the fact that, most Greek students pursuing a tertiary education, remain financial black holes for an extended period of time. Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying people should work more and study less. I am, however, saying that young Greeks take too long to graduate. I know it sounds like I’m suggesting Greeks should invest less in higher education, but I do have a point to make. I just need to ease you into it, because it’s subtle. In a way, this reflects the fragility of the subject.

If you party instead of study, imagine your money trickling down this hole

The first point I have to bring up, is that Greek students are notorious for personifying the perpetual student stereotype: multiple evaluations—such as this one—reveal that it takes the average Greek student about 6 years to graduate once enrolled in an institute of higher learning (“ΑΕΙ” and “ΤΕΙ” in Greek). Compare that to most other European nations, where graduation time is typically 3 to 4 years maximum. In (most) private European universities—none of which are, by law, allowed to exist in Greece—the failures are literally thrown out, an act considered unspeakable by most Greeks.

This is how Greek parents will always see their children

So Greek students have no income for like 3 more years. Big deal. Well, not so fast. Let’s look at some ballpark numbers to get a feeling of the economic impact this has. Because, quite frankly, there’s no argument against the statement that Greek students take way more time to study than necessary. Right now middle- to lower-class Greeks have an average income of around 10,000 € per annum. Let’s say that, instead of just spending 3 extra years studying, all Greek students decided to work part-time and earn on the order of 5,000 € a year, so 15,000 € in total.

Every Greek student could afford two of these with some part-time work

Remember, this is basically wasted potential. And this is true for every new wave of Greek students, year in and year out. So to measure the economic impact on a yearly basis, we need to estimate how many students finish highschool and continue their studies. The first number is easier to estimate, if we assume a population of 10 million and a uniform age distribution ranging from 0 to 80 (the average life expectancy): it comes out to about 125,000 highschool graduates per year.

Final year of Greek highschool: Staring into a the abyss over a pile of books

But how many of them continue their studies? From experience, I’d put it somewhere around 40%. It’s pretty high even for European standards, but it’s somewhere between 30 and 50%. This puts the number of students entering Greece’s higher learning institutions at an estimated 50,000 per year. If all of them decided to work part-time for 3 out of the 6 years of their education, they’d make a combined 250 million €. This is about a quarter of all the money spent annually by the Greek government on all of tertiary education. (Almost a third of total expenditures on education; if you’re Greek, take a look at this excellent report for more info.)

Greeks (myself included) typically don’t see anything like this until their mid 20’s

Just think of the untapped potential Greek students are sitting on; think of how the much the quality of their studies can increase, even by tapping into as little as 1% of all that potential capital. Students don’t even need to work part-time for 3 years; they can spread it over the entire duration of their studies, which comes out to roughly 200 € per month. So what, you may wonder. After all, all I’ve demonstrated is that Greek students can collectively amass a capital that’s a good fraction of what their government spends on their education.

Would you invest in digging if you knew you were standing on top of this?

But this realization is precisely what I’m trying to demonstrate: Instead of bitching about how badly (their) government handles (their) education, or how the Greek society forces them to seek a better future abroad, they could try adjusting their individual attitudes, band together, and be the change they want to see. The numbers add up: Every one of them can, in principle, do it. It’s not easy, but it boils down to a simple philosophy: If the government won’t fix your problems, you have to do at least some of it yourself. It doesn’t have to be the absolute best (what’s that, anyway?), as long as it’s in the right direction.

This is how Greek parents interpret my suggestions

So, any recommendations? As a matter of fact, I have. It’s pretty simple, actually: Finish your studies within a normal time frame, and set aside anything from 2 to 20 € per month. Spend that money on things that will benefit your studies: A new phone, books, new office equipment, a new laptop or tablet, etc. Spend it on things you believe the government should spend; excluding, of course, your professor’s salary. And who knows: Maybe you’ll join forces with like-minded individuals and do something that’ll benefit more than just yourselves, leaving behind a legacy you can be proud of.