And to make matters worse, this entire enterprise was buoyed by your tax dollars, so—regardless of macroeconomic patterns—this dubious marketplace remains untouchable.

What was this ethically questionable industry? I worked in higher education.

More specifically, I worked in college admissions and financial aid. Many of my former admissions colleagues and peers—all of whom I consider to be good friends—probably take offense to how I characterized their livelihood, but I would have too back in the day, when I was in the thick of it.

I took pride in my work, but it was taxing (pun unintended). I spent nearly one-fourth of my year on the road—living in hotels, visiting high schools, attending college fairs, and pitching my school as the place to be for unsuspecting 17-year-olds.

The gig was not only physically exhausting, but also morally. What once seemed like an altruistic mission—helping the young people of today become the leaders of tomorrow—transformed into a much more realpolitik mindset. Slowly, I realized my job wasn't to empower young people, but to get them and their parents to commit to paying a very large sum of money—either by cash or credit—for a little piece of paper that continues to diminish in value.