While I was growing up, my mom got laid off a lot.
She went from job to job—dishwasher, seamstress, maid—getting the pink slip every couple of months. She blamed racism and her inability to speak fluent English. When I was in high school, she went to community college and got a certification for electronics assembly, which helped her get higher-paying work. She even stayed on somewhere longer than a few months. But then the tech bubble burst, and she was once again let go.
All this instability caused her a ton of anxiety, and she became paranoid and depressed. She rarely slept, and she constantly accused unseen enemies of plotting to kill her. She called the police on our neighbors so many times that 911 blacklisted our phone number. This just fueled her downward-spiraling mental state, which she took out on me and my dad.
When it was time to pick a field in university, I knew I had to be careful. By this time, our family finances had stabilized somewhat, but we were still sending money back to China, and, like my dad forty years earlier, I knew I had exactly one shot. I couldn’t risk graduating without being able to find a job. My degree had to help me become independent as quickly as possible. I didn’t want to end up like my mom.
The year was 2000. The Backstreet Boys were on top of the charts, the world hadn’t blown up from Y2K, and for most people, a degree was just a means to an end—getting a job. In fact, even though it seems like it’s been around forever, the phrase “follow your passion” is relatively new. According to Benjamin Todd, CEO and founder of 80000Hours.org, the phrase spiked around 2005, when Steve Jobs gave a commencement speech at Stanford, in which he said, “There’s no reason not to follow your heart.”1 Nowadays, we hear that advice over and over again, drawing young graduates like moths to a flame. It’s sexy and empowering. It’s also dangerous.
When it came time to pick a college, I evaluated my options mathematically. I pored over every university’s website to figure out how much each degree would cost and weighed that against income statistics. I was most interested in:
Writing
Accounting
Computer engineering
Writing was my number one choice. But was a creative writing degree a good investment? A four-year program in Canada would have cost me about $40,000 (and way more if I went with a US school). I learned that writers can make anywhere from $500 to $50,000 to millions per year—if you’re Stephen King—with the average income at $17,000.2 Next, I looked at the hourly minimum wage, which I reasoned was how much I could earn right out of high school. At the then-minimum wage of $6.85 an hour, I’d be looking at $14,248 a year. I subtracted that from my expected salary. This degree was worth . . . drumroll . . . $2,752 a year.
Next, I did the same calculation (using the in-province tuition cost at the time) for accounting and computer engineering. Here’s how they lined up:
Degree |
Total Cost |
Median Salary Above Minimum Wage |
Creative Writing |
$3,3803 x 4 = $13,520 |
$17,000 - $14,428 = $2,752 |
Accounting |
$3,2643 x 4 = $13,056 |
$38,2004 - $14,248 = $23,952 |
Computer Engineering |
$3,6223 x 4 = $14,488 |
$55,0004 - $14,248 = $40,752 |
I stared at my notepad, the wheels inside my head turning. Grabbing my trusty calculator, I divided the rightmost column by the middle one. This gave me a single number I could use to rank my options—a “Pay-over-Tuition,” or POT, score (tee-hee).
Degree |
Total Cost |
Median Salary Above Minimum Wage |
POT Score |
Creative Writing |
$13,520 |
$2,752 |
0.20 |
Accounting |
$13,056 |
$23,952 |
1.83 |
Computer Engineering |
$14,488 |
$40,752 |
2.81 |
For every dollar you spend on a degree, multiply that by the POT score; that’s how much money you can make above minimum wage after graduation. Every dollar I spent on an accounting degree meant I would earn 1.83 times more than my tuition. Computer engineering was even better, giving me a 2.81 multiplier on my tuition. Unfortunately, creative writing, my childhood dream, came in dead last.
Computer engineering was the clear winner. I chose Waterloo because it had an internship program that allowed me to work while getting my degree, which meant I could pay off my tuition during undergrad. Not only would I end up with zero debt, I’d have two years of experience on my résumé.
I have to admit, the idea of going to university for computer engineering didn’t exactly make my heart skip a beat. I grew up wanting to write stories, not code. But I didn’t have a trust fund, and my parents needed me to stop adding to their financial burden. I had to make the hard choice, but the one the math told me was right.
But you might say, “What about doing something you love and being fulfilled and all that jazz? Don’t you want me to be happy?” Of course I want you to be happy. But one of the biggest lies we’ve been sold is that following our passion is the key. Statistically, following your passion will lead to unemployment or underemployment. Those of us who grew up poor know that we’re unlikely to wake up excited each day when we’re worried about where the next meal is going to come from or whether we’ll have to choose between electricity and hot water this month.
Not only that . . .
People change. What lights you up could be very different a few years from now than it is today. One psychology study at Harvard and UVA found that nearly all nineteen thousand participants reported that their passions had changed significantly over the previous ten years.5
Encouraging people to base their career on what they love when they’re eighteen is like encouraging them to exclusively dress like their favorite band from high school. In which case I’d be writing this book while dressed like Scary Spice, and nobody wants that.
I’m passionate about cat videos, travel, and stuffing my face with pad thai, but that doesn’t mean I can turn those interests into a career. And even if I could, it doesn’t mean I should. Even now, when I’m doing something I love—writing—there are still days when I want to tear my hair out. There are parts of every passion that, when turned into a full-time job, suck. I love writing, but that doesn’t mean I love rewriting chapters over and over again, or getting rejection letters from agents, or poring over the dense legalese of a publishing contract until my eyes bleed.
The only reason I’m able to pursue writing now is because I’m not dependent on it to pay the bills. Work is rarely fun when you have to worry about your next paycheck. Work is even less fun when you’re forced to be creative on a schedule because you have no other choice. And this is all assuming you are lucky enough to be working in a field you love!
Happiness (which we’ll talk about more in chapter 8) has to do with the intersection of expectations and reality. Culturally, we expect our work to be engaging, give us autonomy, pay us fairly, let us collaborate with people we like—and be fulfilling. But the idea that each of these conditions can be met, forever and ever, is false. You can’t control how much you get paid, how many jobs exist in a certain field, how great your coworkers are, or whether the job will still exist a year from now.
I had completely forgotten about that little Pay-over-Tuition exercise until I sat down to write this book. When readers write in for help with their finances, I often say, “Time to math shit up!” before I break down the numbers. As it turns out, I was mathing shit up all the way back in high school! Rediscovering those POT scores inspired me to test them out on all sorts of careers I didn’t consider back then. Let’s see what this tells us about many of our “dream” jobs using updated numbers from the US in 2018.
Degree |
Total Cost |
Median Salary Above Minimum Wage |
POT Score |
Fine Arts |
$10,230 × 4 = $40,920 |
$48,7806 − $15,000 = $33,780 |
0.83 |
Dancer |
$10,230 × 4 = $40,920 |
$35,6727 − $15,000 = $20,672 |
0.51 |
Actor |
$10,230 × 4 = $40,920 |
$36,3808 − $15,000 = $21,380 |
0.52 |
Pretty rough. When readers write in from one of these fields, it’s not a surprise if their finances aren’t in the best shape. But what does surprise me is when readers from stereotypically lucrative careers like doctors or lawyers write in. How in the world can a doctor be in financial trouble? Well, take a look:
Degree |
Total Cost |
Median Salary Above Minimum Wage |
POT Score |
Doctor |
Undergrad: $10,230 × 4 = $40,920 Med School: $207,8669 Total: $248,786 |
$208,00010 − $15,000 = $193,000 |
0.78 |
Lawyer |
Undergrad: $10,230 × 4 = $40,920 Law School: $18,175 × 3 = $54,52511 Total: $95,445 |
$119,25012 − $15,000 = $104,250 |
1.09 |
These high-paying careers aren’t much better than a career in the arts! Sure, you can expect to make a six-figure salary, but the combination of the length of time to become qualified and the expensive tuition can be lethal. These tuition numbers are for in-state public schools, by the way. Go to a private college and the math gets even worse. Plus, we’re not even taking into account the loss in earning power from the extended time in school.
It was a lightbulb moment for me: it explains all those doctors who are still struggling with their finances a decade after graduating.
The POT system also reveals that you don’t need a degree at all to have a fruitful career. Here’s what happens when I run the math for a plumber.
Degree |
Total Cost |
Median Salary Above Minimum Wage |
POT Score |
Plumber |
$3,66013 × 2 = $7,320 |
$52,59014 − $15,000 = $37,590 |
5.14 |
Since being a plumber only requires a two-year associate’s degree from a community college, the tuition costs are low, and the median salary is so relatively high that plumbers get an amazing bang for their buck! Not only that, plumbers have a huge built-in customer base (all buildings have pipes, duh), they’re impossible to outsource, and in big cities like Chicago and New York, where supply is low and demand is high, they can make as much as $70,000 a year!15
Who knew?
And by the way, this is a good exercise not just for a high school senior—most of us are long past that point—but for anyone thinking about switching careers.
Now, I realize this chapter might be depressing to some of you. I’m not here to tell you things you want to hear; I’m here to tell you the truth. But remember that the rule is “Don’t follow your passion (yet).” I’m not saying you can’t ever make money doing what you love. After all, you’re only reading this because I eventually was able to become an author. But you have to follow the rest of my advice first. Doing what you love and hoping for money to follow is risky. Follow the money first, and you can do what you love later.
Not all degrees are created equal. Don’t follow your passion (yet).
Follow the POT.
And, yes, I wrote this entire chapter just to be able to close with that line.
I regret nothing.
CHAPTER 4 SUMMARY
Following your passion is a bad way to pick a career.
Instead, you should pick a career based on its Pay-over-Tuition (POT) score.
POT score = Median Salary Above Minimum Wage / Total Cost of Degree.
A high number means money spent on tuition will have a greater effect on your income.