The Federal Loan Shake-Up Isn’t an Attack on Counselors, It’s a Mirror the Field Doesn’t Want to Face

The National Board for Certified Counselors (NBCC) recently released an alarmed announcement: the U.S. Department of Education may no longer classify counseling degrees as “professional degrees” under proposed federal loan regulations.

Predictably, the reaction across the counseling world was swift: fear, outrage, and warnings that our profession is under attack.

But the regulation itself is far less dramatic than the panic makes it out to be. This isn’t a judgment on our competence. It isn’t a demotion of our role in healthcare. And it certainly isn’t a move to wipe out counseling.

It’s a financial reclassification tied to federal lending caps, and it tells us something important about our field that we have long avoided acknowledging.

What the Regulation Actually Does

The Department of Education wants to cap graduate lending and eliminate unlimited GRAD PLUS loans. Under the proposed rule, only programs requiring six or more years of postsecondary study and doctoral-level training will be considered “professional degrees” for borrowing purposes.

That includes medicine, dentistry, pharmacy, law… and newly added clinical psychology.

Counseling, however, is a master’s-level profession. It doesn’t meet the structural criteria.

That’s not an insult; it’s a definition.

But the reaction within the counseling profession reveals a deeper anxiety, one that goes beyond loan limits and hits the core of our identity as a field.

The Part We Don’t Want to Admit

For years, universities have capitalized on the mental health boom by creating counseling programs priced like medical school but structured like assembly lines. Some are excellent. Many are not. And a growing number operate exactly like what I call diploma mills: high tuition, low rigor, quick enrollment, thin oversight, and an enormous pipeline of clinicians who graduate without meaningful depth of training.

I know this firsthand.

My Path Through the System And What It Revealed

When I chose to return for my master’s after more than twenty years, I didn’t get to walk straight into a rigorous program. I had to “prove” my academic readiness to admissions offices. That meant enrolling in a school I had no illusions about; a diploma-mill-style program that would accept me quickly, take my money, and push me through competencies I had long surpassed. I earned a 4.0. Not because it was challenging, but because it wasn’t. And that was the point.

Only after that could I enter Liberty’s program, which required passing statistics before I could even begin the core curriculum. Liberty was undeniably more rigorous. The expectations were higher. The engagement was deeper.

But let’s be honest: Even Liberty, with all its structure, did not fully meet the standards that a true clinical science profession should uphold. The contrast between the programs wasn’t just noticeable, it was alarming. And it made something painfully clear:

The counseling field has allowed massive variability in training, vigor, and expectations and the profession is now suffering for it.

Meeting Accreditation Standards Is Not the Same as Preparing Clinicians

Many states already require CACREP-aligned coursework, and universities design degree programs around accreditation expectations. On paper, that should create a baseline of competency.

But here’s the uncomfortable truth:

Meeting accreditation requirements is not the same as developing clinical mastery.

CACREP and similar frameworks outline categories of learning, not the depth, rigor, or quality of that learning. Universities can (and do) meet these standards with wildly different:

• levels of academic challenge

• quality of instruction

• clinical training expectations

• practicum oversight

• integration of neuropsychology

• emphasis on differential diagnosis

• use of outcome measurement

• and cultivation of case formulation skills

Accreditation ensures structure, not substance.

Two students can graduate from accredited programs with the same degree title yet possess radically different levels of preparedness to treat complex presentations. My own experience confirmed this: both programs I attended were accredited, but the gap in rigor was enormous.

And the truth is this: Accreditation alone is not a proxy for quality.

This is why the field must stop hiding behind accreditation checklists and start examining what “competency” actually demands. Structural compliance is not enough. We need higher expectations, deeper training, and a profession-wide commitment to measurable clinical skill, not just degree completion.

The Federal Regulations Aren’t Punishing Us, They’re Reflecting Us

The proposed federal loan changes don’t threaten counseling. They reveal what many of us working in the trenches already know:

• Our standards are inconsistent.

• Our training varies widely in rigor.

• Too many institutions operate as enrollment machines.

• The profession overproduces generalists while the public needs specialists.

• And too many clinicians graduate without the skills to navigate complex clinical realities.

• And there is no way at current tuition rates that our field can afford the debt owed

This is not an attack on the profession. It is a spotlight on its weak points. And maybe that’s exactly what we need.

Why Higher Standards Don’t Threaten Us, They Strengthen Us

If counseling wants to be recognized as a true clinical discipline, one that deserves a seat at the same table as clinical psychology and medicine, then our education must reflect that reality.

We need:

• deeper clinical science training,

• stronger diagnostic training beyond “talk therapy,”

• more rigorous practicum oversight,

• structured measurement-based care,

• and the expectation that counselors graduate with real clinical competence, not merely academic credits.

This is not about orientation. This is not about “my method” or anyone else’s. It’s about raising the bar for the entire profession.

A Final Word: Be Careful Which Voices You Trust

As the panic spreads, we need to ask who benefits.

NBCC stands to lose certification revenue if fewer students enroll in counseling programs or if the profession moves toward higher entry requirements that make some of their credentials obsolete.

Community mental health agencies, often dependent on a constant churn of new graduates willing to work for low wages, may lose their revolving door of underpaid clinicians.

Universities that rely on expensive master’s-level counseling programs for steady cash flow will certainly feel the pressure.

So yes, the loudest voices are worried. But not necessarily for the reasons they claim.

And if counselors respond to this moment with fear rather than critical thinking, then we are part of the very problem that keeps this field chronically undervalued.

We cannot demand respect while defending weak structures. We cannot call ourselves a profession while resisting accountability. And we cannot complain about sitting at the “little kids’ table” while refusing to examine the foundations of our own training.

This moment is not a threat. It is an invitation to raise the bar, to rethink our identity, and to finally build the profession we keep claiming we want.