Jamayka Rhose Pascual

For students juggling tuition, transport, and the weight of expectations, a proposal that shortens college by a year sounds like relief. But when a solution seems convenient, it’s easy to welcome it without fully considering what it might quietly take away. In July 2025, Senator Sherwin Gatchalian filed the Three-Year College Education Act, which aims to reduce the duration of college programs in the Philippines from four years to three. The main idea behind this proposal is based on the familiar notion that since the K-12 system added Grades 11 and 12, college should naturally be shorter now.


For many students and their parents who are managing the stresses of financial burdens and academic exhaustion, the idea of finishing their degree a year shorter offers a sense of hope. Completing school a year earlier means paying less in tuition, entering the workforce a little bit sooner, and finding relief more quickly. At first glance, it really seems like a step forward. But the real question is: Is saving a year worth the potential cost of sacrificing deeper learning, mental well-being, and true readiness for a future career? Sometimes, what appears to be a more efficient path might actually come with greater costs over time.

The appeal of a 3-year degree

It is understandable why many consider shortening their time in college. In a country where, according to UNESCO, about 36% of families go into debt just to send their children to school, each new academic year can feel like a challenge. For families already struggling with rising tuition, limited income, and the constant weight of structural poverty and underemployment, skipping a year might seem like a practical way to ease financial strain and reach stability sooner.

That’s why a proposal like the Three-Year College Education Act might initially seem like a straightforward solution. Fewer years of tuition, earlier entry into the workforce, and a step closer to a better life — these are deeply valid hopes. But what looks efficient on paper may quickly turn fragile in reality, especially when education systems lack the capacity to safeguard student learning outcomes, mental health, and academic support. Without strong foundations, compressing college could end up compromising more than it helps.

The role of SHS program in college readiness

The K-12 program, particularly the Senior High School (SHS) addition, wasn’t just about adding more years for the sake of it. It was a response to years of compressed learning, underprepared graduates, and the difficult reality that Filipino professionals often face challenges gaining recognition globally. For a long time, the Philippines was the last country in Asia — and one of only three in the world — with just 10 years of basic education, putting its graduates at a disadvantage in both higher education and global employment.

Without those two extra years, many students entered college without the maturity or foundational knowledge essential for success. Even worse, they were often forced to choose degree programs blindly, making guesses about their future instead of making informed, confident decisions.

SHS serves as a guide to students in the right direction and wasn’t created to be a burden. It is designated not to slow them down but to give them a clearer path forward. Think of it as a runway that prepares them for the future, rather than a detour from it. It gives students the space to accelerate, gain balance, and lift off with purpose. Without this preparation, they risk taking off too soon, unsure of their destination, and unready for the turbulence ahead.

This program offers four main tracks — the Academic, Technical Vocational Livelihood (TVL), Arts and Design, and Sports. Within the Academic Track, students can choose from options like STEM, ABM, HUMSS, or GAS — each one opening doors to different college programs or careers. The TVL Track focuses on practical skills in areas like Agri-Fishery Arts, Home Economics, Industrial Arts, and Information and Communications Technology, helping students graduate with certifications from TESDA. On the other hand, the Arts and Sports tracks promote talents that are often overlooked, showing that education can be both useful and personally enriching.

SHS was about more than ticking off extra years; it was about adding value. It gave students the chance to explore their identities, discover their strengths, and consider where they want to head in life. This way, when they step into college or start working, they’re not just showing up, but they are showing up prepared and more confident.

Meanwhile, the proposed three-year college act aims to move General Education courses such as ethics, literature, critical thinking, and Philippine history into SHS. This change is intended to make college programs shorter and more specialized. However, these subjects are far from filler. Ethics equips future healthcare workers with the moral reasoning needed in life-and-death decisions. Literature and history sharpen empathy and cultural awareness, essential in public service, education, and even business. Critical thinking forms the backbone of scientific inquiry and problem-solving, especially in STEM fields where logic and analysis are vital. In a world that’s becoming more interconnected and complex, these foundational courses are what help students become not just skilled workers, but thoughtful, responsible citizens.

This is where the idea of a three-year college truly begins to unravel. Reducing the number of years doesn't lessen the academic workload — it simply compresses it, forcing students to do the same amount of work in less time. It’s a reform that appears efficient but is ultimately misleading. The demands of coursework, internships, and research remain the same, but the time to absorb, reflect, and grow is cut short. In this race against the clock, students are often left trading depth for deadlines, and mental health for academic survival. 

The greater cost of shorter college length

Recent research reveals that more than 70% of college students in the Philippines are already feeling high to very high levels of academic stress. This stress comes from difficult exams, heavy workloads, and expectations that sometimes seem impossible to meet. Trying to fit a four-year college program into just three years doesn’t make things easier; it actually makes the pressure worse. When students have to rush through their studies, it can lead to burnout, forcing them to trade depth of learning and their well-being for speed. As a result, instead of graduating stronger and more prepared, many students end up feeling overwhelmed and exhausted.

What’s more, this comes at a time when Filipino students are already facing many challenges. The Universal Access to Quality Tertiary Education Act has made tuition in state universities free, but the actual experience of “free” education isn’t similar. Many state universities still receive greatly less funding per student compared to well-known institutions. For instance, data shows that Bulacan State University spends around P9,000 per student, while the University of the Philippines invests approximately P177,000. So, while more students may now enter college, not all receive the same quality of learning. The gap isn’t just about who gets in — it’s also about what kind of education they get once they’re there.

The last round of budget cuts on the Tertiary Education Subsidy has trapped thousands of students — particularly the most underprivileged of them — between few choices and dwindling resources. From P60,000 to as low as P20,000 for students from private schools, and from P40,000 to P20,000 for public institution students, the reduced assistance no longer finances the bare essentials of college life. State universities, with already limited slots, cannot absorb the surging demand, forcing many to have no alternative but to study in private schools they cannot afford. 

The Commission on Higher Education claims the cut was to fund more grantees, but only 35% today are from the poorest families, a precipitous decline from 75% in 2018. In attempting to cover more students, we are threatening to assist fewer actually achieve. Education ought to open, not shut, doors on those who most require them.

The challenges don’t end there, UNESCO in 2024 has also warned that even though public education is free, students and families still face hidden costs such as uniforms, school supplies, and transportation expenses that many cannot afford. The underprivileged families often have to make tough choices, sometimes sacrificing daily needs like food or healthcare just to keep their children in school. In this context, shortening college programs to three years really seems helpful, but it could hide deeper problems by giving an impression of quick completion, without addressing the underlying widespread issues.

In the end, what’s really important isn’t just how fast a student can finish school, but how prepared they are when they do. Education, when it's done properly, needs time. It’s about creating space to explore interests, to specialize, and to recover from setbacks and come back stronger. SHS provided students with that breathing room, giving them guidance before rushing into obligations. Emphasizing depth first, then deadlines. So, when faced with choosing between saving a year or protecting a student’s future, the choice becomes clear. Progress is important, but rushing ahead at the expense of leaving anyone behind isn’t the right way. 

Copying foreign systems won’t work blindly

Proponents point to countries such as Germany, where a bachelor’s degree typically takes just three years. However, they often overlook the fact that German students benefit from strong connections between universities and industry, from rigorous, graded internships to streamlined pathways into graduate studies or employment. In the Philippines, where internship systems are still patchy and uneven, implementing a similar model without the same support structure risks placing students at a serious disadvantage in an already competitive job market.

Germany’s three-year college model works because it’s backed by strong ties between universities and industries. Students gain hands-on experience through structured internships that are part of their academic track. Without similar pipelines, shortening college in the Philippines risks producing graduates who are less prepared for the demands of the real world.

Other countries share similar beliefs in education with Germany. For example, in Finland, students tend to spend more years in school, but the focus is on personalized learning, student well-being, and truly understanding the educational materials. Education isn’t meant to be a race. Instead, it is a carefully paced process designed so that, by the time students graduate, they don’t just know theories but they are also able to apply them in real life.

In South Korea, the pressure to excel academically is also very high. However, their educational system emphasizes mastery and specialization. Students go into college with solid foundations built during high school, making even the toughest college courses feel more manageable.

These education systems succeed because they follow a big-picture approach. They don’t simply trim years; they rethink what those years should contain and how students are supported throughout. In contrast, trying to compress college into fewer years in the Philippines—without first investing in guidance systems, academic preparedness, or internship quality—only speeds up the race without preparing students to finish strong.

Fast-tracking graduation may look appealing on paper, but what do employers actually look for? According to a JobStreet Philippines report, 78% of hiring managers prioritize relevant experience and skills over how quickly a candidate completed school. Many HR professionals emphasize that graduates who are job-ready—those who can adapt, solve problems, and communicate clearly — stand out far more than those who simply finished faster.

Simply copying the number of years from an international educational model without considering how its structure, depth, and support systems fit the country’s local context, is comparable to copying a house design without checking if it suits the land it’s supposed to stand on. The real risk is thinking that taking a shortcut will lead many to success.  In reality, good learning takes time, careful planning, and solid foundations. 

Limiting the character builder

Many assume that shortening college to three years will help students enter the workforce sooner — but this view often skips over what truly matters: being ready. Getting a job isn't just about holding a degree; it's about having the skills, experience, and confidence to do the work well and grow within a role. College is where students sharpen those capabilities. It’s where they conduct research, join internships, and build networks — not extras, but essentials for long-term success.

Shrinking college to just three years doesn't just save time; it risks cutting short the very experiences that prepare students to succeed after graduation. On the other hand, the K–12 curriculum was designed with preparation in mind. SHS offers four main tracks — Academic, TVL,  Arts and Design, and Sports — each helping students explore their strengths and align their education with real-world opportunities. For example, TVL students can earn TESDA certifications and go straight into the workforce after graduating, while others build solid academic foundations that give them a leg up in specialized college programs such as STEM, HUMSS, ABM, or GAS.

Getting students started early with clear guidance helps them make knowledgeable choices and enter college with purpose, not just to meet requirements. When students know what they want and plan carefully, they’re more likely to succeed. Rushing through college, however, can threaten these important goals. While a shorter educational journey might get students through faster, it doesn’t mean they’ll stand out or keep up in today’s competitive and fast-changing job market.

Employers aren’t interested in how quickly someone finished school; they want to know what that person can bring to the table. Skills, initiative, and adaptability are what matter most. In education, moving fast doesn’t always mean being strong. What really counts is how well prepared students are — not how quickly they arrive at graduation, but how ready they are when they do.

Reform that misses the roots?

If the aim is to make education better, the answer isn’t simply about cutting back or making things easier. Real reform should focus on strengthening what already works well, fixing what's not working, and addressing long-standing gaps. It’s important not to rush to simplify years of learning into shortcuts that could end up leaving more students behind. 

The K–12 program was introduced to align with global standards and better equip students for higher education or work. But despite its intentions, the implementation still falls short in many areas: underqualified teachers, weak internet access, inadequate materials, and poorly executed work immersion programs. More urgently, support systems for mental health and academic advising remain largely underdeveloped.

Removing a year from college won’t fix what students are up against daily — overcrowded classrooms, underpaid educators, and outdated facilities. It may even worsen the load, forcing students to do more with less time and support.

The main challenges in Philippine education aren’t about what’s on the syllabus; they’re structural. According to the Second Congressional Commission on Education, the country is dealing with a shortage of over 165,000 classrooms. Many students are now called “aisle students,” crammed so tightly into rooms that there’s barely space to breathe. wedged between chairs, backs pressed against walls, kneeling over notebooks on their laps. In rural areas, the situation may be quieter but no less severe — some classes combine multiple grade levels, while others are held in makeshift spaces with leaking roofs and no electricity. 

Some schools are even operational in five or six shifts a day, like Ciudad Nuevo de Naic National High School in Cavite, which runs classes from early morning to late evening just to keep up. These cramped and unstable conditions reflect in our students’ learning outcomes.

The slow progress in building new classrooms, hampered by delays in procurement, budget issues, land disagreements, and weather-related risks which means that at the current pace, it could take more than 20 years to clear this backlog. In 2022, no new classrooms were built despite available funding. Most of the money remains unused due to bureaucratic delays. 

The 2022 Program for International Student Assessment results showed that 15-year-old students in the Philippines still trail behind their international peers in subjects like math, science, and reading. In response, the Department of Education (DepEd) Secretary Sonny Angara at that time suggested practical steps such as introducing 30-minute reading sessions between classes and increasing science activities to help students catch up and improve their learning outcomes.

At the same time, the shortage of teachers, while not as severe as the classroom shortages, is still a concern. DepEd plans to create 140,000 new teaching positions. However, organizations like the Alliance of Concerned Teachers argue the system is already overwhelmed, with some public school classes having more than 50 students in a single room. 

These are the urgent issues: not how many years college should take, but whether every student has a fair shot at a quality education. Reform should be about building strong foundations, not shaving off time. Our students don’t just need faster diplomas — they need time, space, and support to grow, to recover, and to succeed. True reform means investing in better outcomes, not quicker ones.

Education takes time

While it's understandable that speed might seem appealing to a system eager to produce quick results, education isn’t and shouldn’t be a race. It’s a journey designed to shape minds, expand understanding, and prepare individuals for the complicated world awaiting them. The time spent in school isn’t a delay; it’s an investment. It’s where students not only learn facts but also build confidence, discipline, and new perspectives that will serve them well beyond graduation.

When the process is rushed, students will miss out on the journey to growth and development. Before jumping to shortcuts in the name of progress, the question lies — what should the government really be saving in the educational system, and what might they be sacrificing in the process?

Because in the end, a diploma earned with true readiness will always carry more value than one obtained hastily with less understanding. Authentic reform supports students in moving forward — not by going faster, but by growing stronger. Now is the time for policymakers to listen to the voices of students and educators on the ground, for institutions to prioritize depth over speed, and for communities to demand reforms that build real, lasting change. If we truly want education to be a ladder out of poverty, not a race toward burnout, we must choose the path that invests in strength, not shortcuts.