"If she's a professor, then she should realize the value of continuing his education," Noah said. "If nothing else is comforting, then that should be. I'm a professor myself, and I think it's ingrained in us to encourage people to go to college."
In a couple of years, the last group of adolescents would be entering higher education. After that, it would be eighteen years before the next wave. And wasn't that a scary thought? They would have to cut back, most likely drastically, re-tailor the classes to adults, and hang on until the kids born now grew up. Even the ones with tenure were getting nervous; if there were no students to teach, how much would tenure matter? Noah had a degree in biochemistry as well as his doctorate in botany, so if worse came to worst, he could fall back on that. Research, possibly. He'd been sending out tentative feelers, looking around. He wasn't sure what May thought, or what her prospects might be; the hard sciences could move into industry and medicine, but he didn't know what humanities would do.
It was an unsettling thought, one that had been on his mind lately. He went back to pulling weeds. "What does he plan for his major? Which schools?"