Students' financial well-being rests on four pillars: paid work, family support, study grants, and student loans. In Estonia, this balance is heavily skewed. It places an additional burden on young people and creates inequality and mismatch, despite higher education being free. Those who must work to survive cannot truly dedicate themselves to their studies.

We do not know how many young people are unable to access free higher education at all due to financial hardship, left to watch the "party" through the castle window. "Higher education is not truly free if a student cannot afford to live while studying," the Estonian Students' Union puts it.

Systems supported by parents and the state

I once spoke with a colleague at a UK university about access to higher education. She said that in England, families think about how to pay for their children's education already when planning to have kids. The spacing between births should be three to five years, because when children reach university age, parents cannot afford tuition fees and living costs for several children at once.

How widespread this planning method is remains unclear, but as a mindset it reflects the nature of a tuition‑based system without state support. In addition to parental help, the UK system relies heavily on student loans — more than 90 percent of students take them (Eurydice data).

At the other extreme are the Nordic countries, with free higher education and universal support for most students. In Denmark and Sweden, about 90 percent of students receive study grants; in Finland and Norway, roughly half. Students there are largely independent of their parents' wallets, although the size of the grant is partly linked to parental income. Additional support helps cover the cost of living away from home.

Behind all this are high taxes, a societal agreement, a strong safety net for those who need help, and reliable databases.

Although the Nordic model seems ideal, it has weaknesses. Denmark can no longer sustain the system at growing scale, because it must offer the same benefits to all EU students studying there — and has begun limiting their access to Danish universities.

Moreover, living costs in the Nordics are so high that even in a state‑supported system, students still rely heavily on loans. Around 50 percent of students in Finland and Sweden take student loans, 65 percent in Norway, and 20 percent in Denmark.

A working student or a studying worker?

At one end of the scale are countries where students rely on family support; at the other, countries where students rely on state support. In both cases, loans play a major role. The Estonian student fits neither model.

According to the Eurostudent survey, Estonian students' financial well‑being depends primarily on working (using Eurostudent 8 data for international comparison).

Parents do support students here — about 80 percent receive some help — but it makes up only one‑third of their income (in other countries, parental support averages half of student income).

Students also receive state support — 40 percent get it — but it accounts for only 5 percent of their income (elsewhere the average is 12 percent; in the Nordics 33–49 percent). Estonian students cannot or do not want to depend on parents, and cannot depend on the state. Student loans are used minimally — less than five percent take them. That leaves work.

Estonian students work, and universities increasingly adapt teaching to the needs of working students: online lectures, session‑based study. The labor market seems to welcome this, as workers have been in short supply and young, healthy people are a welcome addition. Students themselves rarely complain (they have no time), and many are pleased to gain valuable work experience. The burden on the state budget is small. One could say everything is fine. But this "beautiful" equation has three problems.

First, Estonian students' combined study and work load is 50–60 hours per week, depending on study level and age. Where things start to tear depends on the individual. Universities see symptoms such as mental‑health problems and dropout. Financial stress and working are among the top sources of student stress.

Second, the average student spends 32 hours per week studying. That means eight hours — a full fifth of the expected 40‑hour full‑time study load — is spent on something else. The average working student also works nearly 30 hours per week.

How much time remains for studying? German data show that every hour worked means half an hour less studying. In some sense, this situation wastes higher‑education funding and lecturers' time. Free higher education was meant for full‑time engagement.

Third, we do not hear the voices of those for whom our free but meager support system is inaccessible — or who fall out of it quickly.

We don't hear young people who receive no support from their parents at all; whose expenses are higher because they have to live away from home; who need more than 40 hours of commitment a week rather than less to keep up with their studies; and/or who, as recent high school graduates, cannot find a suitable job to balance with their studies. They are not visible when we talk about student well‑being, because they are not students.

Let's aim better

The state budget will not deliver a ship full of money in the coming years, with support for all students. Not everyone needs help: those who live with parents (about one‑third of young students) and receive sufficient support could manage well by taking a student loan, working lightly (in summer), and keeping expenses under control.

Looking at the student car parks and remembering how "in our time" we lived on fried potatoes, one might think students live better than ever. I've wondered why today's young people sacrifice their free time to work in order to buy more things or afford better living conditions, instead of living an active student life on pasta and shared dorm rooms.

I fear that to many onlookers, they might give the impression of "comfort students." Yet, working while studying — or studying while working — cannot be painted with a single brush. Different expectations are inevitable for students over 30 who study part‑time while working.

Thus, in my view, the main question (given the state's difficult financial situation) is not how to massively increase support, but whether our limited support money reaches those who need it most — and whether the support amount is sufficient for a student who truly needs help.

Nearly a quarter (24 percent) of Estonian students say they have serious or very serious financial difficulties. Similarly, nearly a quarter of young students (up to age 19) say they could not afford higher education without paid work.

I offer three ideas that decision‑makers might consider after the upcoming demonstration (certainly not the only ones):

1. Does existing support reach those who need it most? Parental income is relevant, but is it enough? The current system does not account for the extra costs of living away from home — about 50 percent higher. If we cannot rely on registration data, could we consider additional support for those who finished basic or secondary school outside the university city?
2. Consider supplementing the support system with a loan‑based component. Student loans could turn into grants for those who work for a period in professions and locations most needed by the state — for example, teachers or family doctors outside Tallinn and Tartu.
3. The tax system is a sacred cow in Estonia, but I still raise the idea of reviewing it. Many countries offer tax benefits to parents of higher‑education students. We could consider this for families below a certain income level.

Naturally, support amounts should be reviewed, as they fall behind inflation and rising living costs. We should ask: how large should support be so that, combined with a student loan, a student living away from home could cover their costs without working? And can I be confident that once I start working in my field, I can repay the loan?

To the student who didn't make it to the lecture hall, it may seem the reason was their own lack of motivation or inability to organize their life. Too often, however, working long hours alongside studies — or deciding not to enroll at all — is a rational and necessary choice to stay afloat. Real access to higher education should mean not only the ability to enroll, but the ability to actually study.

It is good when working is a free choice. It becomes a problem when it turns into a survival strategy. We likely won't see many of the most vulnerable young people at the student demonstration on 24 September. We may not see them at university either, and their situation does not appear in student well‑being statistics. When a young person's energy goes entirely into daily survival, it is hard for them to assess whether the situation is fair or could be different. Universities and society must be able to notice those who cannot ask for help themselves.

Studies used in the article: "National student fee and support systems in European higher education" (Eurydice, 2020), "Social and Economic Conditions of Student Life in Europe. EUROSTUDENT 8 Synopsis of Indicators 2021–2024" (wbv Publikation, 2024, comparison data for other countries) and "EUROSTUDENT 9 Eesti tulemuste lühiülevaade" (Praxis, 2026, fresh Estonian data). 

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