Lawmakers across the country often insist on making “investments” in economic programs to help fill a perceived need for skilled workers. But such efforts often put the needs of the state and favored industries ahead of the needs of individuals — and they miss big picture questions in the process.
This critical view should be taken about the newly passed UPSKILL program, which is expected to cover tuition and fees associated with getting a certificate or degree at a Mississippi public community or junior college. The program, in House Bill 562, passed with unanimous support from lawmakers and the governor signed it into law.
Initially, the program will be exclusively for Mississippians overcoming opioid addiction, hence the funding source of the program starts with money from $50 billion opioid settlement to state, local, and tribal governments. Republican Sen. Nicole Boyd told her colleagues that the program will be good for people in recovery.
“It is the program where we encourage those that are over age 24 to up-skill and get into high priority work sectors,” she said, according to the Magnolia Tribune.
The Design Problem: Labor Market First, Person Second
But UPSKILL’s eligible programs will be determined annually by the state’s review of employer demand and workforce shortages — essentially, what the labor market needs. That sounds sensible, but in practice those designations are heavily influenced by major employers who want a trained workforce pipeline at public expense. The program could function as a publicly-subsidized labor supply program for specific private employers without those employers contributing to its cost.
Crucially such an approach underemphasizes, and even ignores, the fact that each person is born with unique gifts and talents. Asking what the labor market needs and then pushing people into state-sanctioned boxes is the reverse of what should be happening.
A person with a gift for artistry, writing, craftsmanship, early childhood education, or caregiving work might find little room in a program built around HVAC, welding, and construction certifications. The program, therefore, treats people as inputs to an economic system rather than as individuals who deserve respect for escaping addiction and now have distinct contributions to make.
The state might (and probably will) eventually justify the program’s existence and call for its expansion as students apply for funding to gain a certificate or degree in an approved field and shortages in some areas are ameliorated. But in such an analysis, there’s no accounting for quality of life, e.g., if a person finds himself in a job he never wanted just because money was available to meet the need.
The Community Problem: What the State Crowds Out
It’s also worth noting that the program creates a transactional connection between a person and an employer-defined credential, but it severs and discourages the community connections important to the growth and wellbeing of a person, especially one in recovery. The state stipend is $500, which would be a manageable dollar amount for local charities, churches, civic organizations to offer, if they were so inclined.
UPSKILL’s enabling legislation intends participants to tap into other government assistance programs, including Temporary Assistance for Needy Families (TANF) to provide up to $250 for “emergency aid, childcare stipends or transportation assistance (bus vouchers or gas cards).”
That leaves no room for local charities and organizations to engage. If they were invited to, they could offer things the state is not offering: mentorship, peer cohorts, community check-ins, drug rehab integration circles, stuff that goes beyond a program and several hundred dollars. Recovery communities know that sustainable reintegration requires more than a job; it requires belonging.
The state program also has the deleterious effect of creating an expectation that the state will step in to offer money and support services, because that’s what the state does, as proven by this program. One could reasonably ask, “where does the state’s role stop and the community effort begin?”
A person who has spent ten years in a low-wage job, never touched drugs, but lacks the credential to move up — isn’t he or she equally deserving of support? The program’s initial gatekeeping, driven by the funding source, creates a hierarchy of deservingness that puts former addicts ahead of people who also struggle.
None of this is to say the problem UPSKILL is trying to solve isn’t real. Mississippi has thousands of job openings and communities hollowed out by addiction. The state stepped in precisely because communities, churches, and civic organizations hadn’t filled the gap at scale. That’s worth acknowledging honestly. It’s also worth understanding why. Is it possible that the state government’s broad list of programs, decades in the making, played some part in the lack of persistence of non-governmental organizations to meet local needs?
The critique isn’t that the need doesn’t exist — it’s that the state’s instinct to solve it by building a pipeline for employers, rather than building up people, reflects a persistent confusion about what investment in human beings actually looks like. It also avoids the bigger questions about systemic problems that Mississippi, and many other states, must begin to understand.
— Wayne Hoffman is President of the public policy education and advocacy organization, Level Up Humanity, and is a research fellow of the Mississippi Center for Public Policy.
