STEM Worker Surplus: A Capitalist Strategy to Suppress Wages?
The relentless push toward STEM education in American colleges is often framed as a golden pathway to financial stability and professional success. Yesterday’s article explored the practical implications of this narrative—the “what” of the issue—highlighting how it shapes students’ futures in ways that are neither as secure nor as prosperous as promised. Yet, as I reflected on my development of the piece, I found myself drawn to a deeper question: why does this narrative exist at all? What are the systems and incentives driving this overemphasis on STEM careers, and who ultimately benefits from its persistence? This line of inquiry led me to revisit the foundational texts of Marx and Engels, whose critiques of labour systems and capitalist structures remain uncannily relevant.
Marx and Engels’ concept of the “reserve army of labour,” articulated in Das Kapital, Wages of Labour, and other works, provides a compelling lens through which to view this phenomenon. In essence, they argued that capitalism thrives on a surplus of workers—an oversupply that ensures wages remain low and workers remain compliant. By creating a pool of individuals with similar qualifications, capitalists are able to suppress labour costs, minimise collective bargaining power, and extract maximum profit. The modern STEM pipeline, with its aggressive marketing and systemic prioritisation, seems to function as a contemporary iteration of this principle. It is not simply a misguided policy or an outdated strategy but a deliberate mechanism embedded within a capitalist system designed to maintain its own dominance.
Revisiting texts like The Communist Manifesto and Das Kapital offers an opportunity to uncover these hidden dynamics and understand how deeply they are ingrained in our educational and economic frameworks. Far from being relics of the past, these works illuminate the ways in which labour and education are manipulated to serve capital, often at the expense of the individuals they purport to benefit. The STEM surplus, I would argue, is a direct consequence of this collusion between schools and capital—a strategy that prioritises profit over people, efficiency over equity. By examining the “why” behind this push, we can begin to challenge its assumptions and advocate for an educational system that values adaptability, creativity, and human potential over the relentless demands of the market.
Theoretical Framework: The Reserve Army of Labour
The oversupply of STEM graduates in the United States is not just a matter of market dynamics but a deliberate construct rooted in systemic incentives. Reports, such as the 2015 analysis by Xue and Larson, reveal significant sector-specific imbalances in the STEM labour market. Whilst private industry and government sectors report shortages in recently developed specialised areas, academic sectors often grapple with an oversupply of qualified professionals. This disparity underscores the misalignment between education systems and actual labour market demands, resulting in many STEM graduates finding themselves unemployed or underemployed in non-STEM roles.
A critical factor exacerbating this issue is the narrative of perpetual STEM shortages. Widely promoted by policymakers and industries, this narrative serves multiple political and economic purposes. For instance, it justifies the expansion of H-1B visa programs, which bring in foreign STEM workers purportedly to address these shortages. However, research by Stevenson (2014) has questioned the validity of these claims, pointing to political motivations that obscure the actual labour market realities. The influx of foreign workers, while contributing to productivity gains in some sectors, also intensifies competition, further saturating the market and driving down wages for all workers.
Technological change adds another layer of complexity. Rapid advancements in automation and artificial intelligence render many STEM skills obsolete within a short timeframe. As Deming and Noray (2018) highlight, the dynamic nature of these fields reduces the longevity of careers, leaving many workers stranded in a job market that values cutting-edge skills over long-term experience. This phenomenon aligns with Marx’s insights in Das Kapital on machinery’s role in suppressing wages and destabilising labour. Engels’ observations on globalisation reinforce this critique, showing how corporations exploit both technological innovation and global labour disparities to maximise profit while workers bear the brunt of these shifts.
The education system, driven by public policies and corporate partnerships, plays a pivotal role in sustaining this oversupply. Initiatives that aim to “double the number of STEM graduates,” as critiqued by Teitelbaum (2006), fail to consider whether the increased output aligns with market demand. Instead, these policies contribute to a surplus that benefits capital by creating a reserve army of labour. This oversupply ensures that employers have access to a vast pool of overqualified and underemployed workers, keeping wages low and bargaining power negligible.
Ultimately, the STEM surplus is less a symptom of market inefficiency and more a feature of a capitalist system designed to prioritise profit over people. The alignment of education with capital’s interests perpetuates these imbalances, masking systemic exploitation under the guise of opportunity. Addressing this issue requires not just policy reform but a fundamental rethinking of how education serves labour and society, challenging the narratives that sustain the exploitation of STEM graduates.
Education as a Tool of Capital
Education in capitalist societies has long been shaped to serve the economic imperatives of the system, often at the expense of individual and societal well-being. Bowles (1978) long ago highlighted how educational structures are designed to regulate labour flow and enhance productivity, ensuring that workers are primed to meet the demands of capital. Far from being neutral or egalitarian, these systems prioritise economic objectives, perpetuating class dominance under the guise of opportunity. This alignment between education and market needs is especially evident in the promotion of STEM fields, where institutions have become “free” training centres for capital.
The push for STEM education, as Fasih (2008) notes, reflects a disproportionate emphasis on meeting market demands whilst neglecting broader societal benefits. Policies and public campaigns encourage students to pursue STEM degrees, not because of intrinsic value or guaranteed career outcomes, but because they align with corporate needs for a technically skilled yet easily replaceable workforce. Akcan et al. (2023) further argue that whilst STEM education may enhance job opportunities in specific cases, it also contributes to oversaturation and technological unemployment. This paradox exposes the contradiction at the heart of capitalist education systems: they promise stability while fostering precariousness.
Bowles and Gintis (1981) critique these systems as mechanisms for reproducing capitalist labour relations. The current STEM pipeline exemplifies this dynamic, producing graduates who are not only overqualified but also commodified, their education reduced to a marketable skill set. Greaves et al. (2007) expand on this, analysing how neoliberal policies have transformed education into a commodity, stripping it of its potential to be a transformative social institution. Instead of fostering critical thought or creativity, education becomes a tool for economic exploitation, as Auerbach (2016) observes, perpetuating exploitative labour dynamics under the guise of economic opportunity.
The role of public policy in this process cannot be overstated. Federal and state incentives, driven by corporate lobbying, funnel students into STEM programs while shifting the financial burden of training onto individuals. Students, lured by promises of high-paying careers, often incur significant debt only to face an oversaturated job market. The economic consequences are severe: graduates find themselves in precarious employment, with suppressed wages and limited bargaining power, while corporations reap the benefits of a highly skilled yet desperate labour pool.
This system serves capital at every turn. By producing a surplus of STEM workers, it creates a reserve army of labour that drives down wages and weakens collective bargaining. Moreover, as Bowles and Gintis (1981) point out, these systems embed contradictions, as the very oversupply they create undermines the promise of economic opportunity. The commodification of education, observed by Greaves et al. (2007), ensures that it serves not as a means of empowerment but as a tool of control.
Ultimately, the capitalist model of education prioritises profit over people, efficiency over equity. To challenge this system, we must reimagine education as a space for intellectual and personal growth rather than a mechanism for perpetuating economic hierarchies. By recognising how deeply embedded these exploitative structures are, as outlined in the works of Bowles, Gintis, and others, we can begin to advocate for policies that value human potential over market imperatives. This shift is not only necessary but urgent if education is to fulfil its role as a transformative force in society.
Counterpoint: The Need for Adaptability and Interdisciplinary Education
Whilst the Empire pushes for narrowly defined skillsets tailored to meet immediate labour market demands, this approach has significant limitations that both Marx and Engels critiqued extensively. Engels, in particular, identified the alienation inherent in specialisation, where workers become mere cogs in the machinery of production, detached from the holistic value of their labour. This alienation, born of a fragmented and narrowly focused education, stifles creativity and adaptability, leaving workers vulnerable to economic shifts and technological obsolescence. In contrast, a well-rounded education rooted in interdisciplinary principles fosters the very qualities needed to resist such commodification.
Modern implications of this critique are glaring. The relentless push for STEM specialisation often leaves students ill-equipped for the unpredictability of contemporary labour markets. As my previous article emphasised, STEM fields, though valuable, are not the panacea they are often made out to be. The oversaturation of these markets, combined with the rapid pace of technological change, renders narrowly trained graduates more susceptible to redundancy. Without the capacity to pivot—an ability cultivated through exposure to diverse disciplines—these individuals find themselves trapped in the very precarity that their education was supposed to protect them from.
A liberal arts education offers a compelling counterpoint. By engaging with disciplines such as philosophy, history, and sociology alongside technical fields like mathematics or engineering, students develop the adaptability and critical thinking necessary for long-term resilience. These qualities are essential not only for navigating volatile markets but also for understanding and addressing the broader societal contexts in which they operate. As I suggested in my earlier piece, pairing a major in sociology with a minor in mathematics exemplifies this balance (heck, go for a double major). Sociology fosters an understanding of human behaviour and social structures, whilst mathematics provides the logical rigour to analyse and interpret complex systems. Together, they create a foundation for innovation and problem-solving that transcends the limitations of single-domain expertise.
Success stories abound of individuals who have thrived through interdisciplinary approaches. For instance, in the field of environmental sustainability, professionals merge ecological science with economics to develop strategies for reducing carbon footprints while maintaining economic viability. Likewise, in healthcare technology, experts integrate knowledge of biomedical engineering with user-centred design principles from psychology to create medical devices and applications that are both effective and accessible. Similarly, urban planning combines data analysis with sociological insights to design communities that are both functional and equitable, and public policy professionals synthesise quantitative data with qualitative understanding to craft solutions that resonate with human realities. These examples illustrate how the integration of liberal arts and technical disciplines equips individuals not just for specific jobs but for meaningful, adaptive contributions to a rapidly changing world.
By valuing adaptability and creativity over rigid specialisation, we can challenge the commodification of education and reclaim its transformative potential. The aim should not be to reject technical training outright but to embed it within a broader framework of learning that prepares individuals to thrive in uncertainty, resist alienation, and contribute to society in ways that extend beyond mere economic utility. This vision, though at odds with capitalist priorities, aligns with a deeper understanding of education as a pathway to human flourishing.
Final thoughts …
As we conclude this dense and multifaceted exploration, it becomes clear that Marx and Engels’ concept of the reserve army of labour provides a powerful lens for understanding the STEM surplus and its broader implications. Their framework reveals how capitalist systems manipulate labour markets through education, creating an oversupply of workers to serve corporate interests whilst undermining individual and collective well-being. By producing a steady stream of overqualified graduates, the system ensures wages remain suppressed, bargaining power is diminished, and labour is perpetually at the mercy of market fluctuations. This deliberate alignment of education with capital’s needs exemplifies the enduring relevance of Marxist analysis in critiquing contemporary systems.
Yet, this deep dive isn’t simply an intellectual exercise. It is an invitation to approach education with a critical eye, particularly when the stakes involve significant financial and personal investment. Before committing to a lengthy and expensive course of study, readers should take the time to do their own homework. Investigate the labour market for your intended field, question the narratives you’ve been told about its security and value, and reflect on whether the path aligns with your strengths, aspirations, and capacity to adapt in an uncertain world. The pursuit of education should be a pathway to flourishing, not a trap that leaves you overburdened with debt and underwhelmed by opportunities.
This is where “education reform” must begin—not with policies that prioritise market efficiency or corporate profits, but with a commitment to fostering human potential in all its forms. We must reimagine education as a tool for critical thought, creativity, and adaptability, rather than merely a mechanism for producing commodified labour. Interdisciplinary approaches, which integrate the technical with the humanistic, offer a way forward, equipping individuals with the skills to thrive not just in jobs but in life. By embracing such a vision, we can challenge the commodification of education and create systems that truly serve society.
Marx and Engels’ works remind us that the structures we inhabit are not immutable. Their analysis offers both a critique and a call to action, urging us to question and resist systems that prioritise profit over people. And let’s be honest, knowing their work might prove invaluable as we navigate the terrain of the new US administration, where the collusion of capital and power is only becoming more overt. Perhaps that’s precisely why the right-wing is so keen to ban these texts and prohibit their study—what better way to ensure compliance than to keep people from learning how to critique the very systems exploiting them? As you navigate your own educational journey or support others in theirs, let the insights of Marx and Engels serve not only as a guide to understanding the challenges but also as a tool for envisioning and advocating for a better, more equitable future. After all, the choices we make in education should reflect more than just the demands of the market—they should honour the richness and complexity of what it means to be human, something no administration or ideology can afford to suppress forever.