The Engineering Job Market Reality Check

Finally, a mathematical equation I can actually taste! While your calculus professor droned on about "real-world applications," Pringles engineers were quietly becoming the true heroes of applied mathematics. That hyperbolic paraboloid shape isn't just fancy jargon to impress your date—it's the perfect marriage of structural engineering and snack technology. The saddle curve distributes force evenly, preventing your precious potato-based approximations from shattering before they reach your mouth. Next time someone asks "when will I ever use math in real life?" just dramatically pull out a Pringles can and whisper, "I eat equations for breakfast."

This flowchart is what happens when career counselors have a mental breakdown. Engineering? Only if you're "good with things." Chemistry? Congratulations on your future as a "fussy pedant." And let's not forget Computer Science, perfect for those who prefer "slow, indirect evil" over the more efficient varieties. The beautiful part is how it nails the existential crisis of every STEM student. "Why do you want to major in a STEM field?" Options include "curiosity" (adorable), "to save the planet" (delusional), or my personal favorite, the dawning realization that STEM was supposed to involve actual plants for Biology majors. After 30 years of teaching, I can confirm this is approximately 87% accurate. The missing 13% is the path where you choose your major based on which department has the least uncomfortable chairs in the lecture hall.

That moment when your SolidWorks model looks like a majestic dragon in your head but renders as a deformed potato in reality. Universities praise your "innovative approach" while senior engineers just stare with that dead-inside expression that says "I've seen this disaster before." The CAD skills gap between education and industry is basically the engineering equivalent of expecting to fly and barely managing to crawl.

Nothing triggers an existential crisis quite like a PE license expiration notice. First comes the panic—because without that Professional Engineer credential, you're basically just a person with an expensive calculator. Then relief washes over you when you realize renewal is just a few clicks away. Until... the website is down. Classic engineering problem: the system designed to maintain professional standards can't maintain itself. Murphy's Law applies even to Murphy himself.

The eternal engineering mystery! Person 1 confesses they've been faking knowledge about engineering, while Person 2 reveals their dad—an actual engineer—just "goes to work and comes back." This perfectly captures the black box that is engineering to outsiders. Engineers apply complex principles to build everything from bridges to smartphones, yet somehow manage to describe their job as "I make things work." Meanwhile, the rest of us nod along, pretending we understand torque calculations and thermodynamic efficiencies. It's the ultimate professional smoke and mirrors—they could be building rockets or just playing with expensive LEGO sets all day. Who would know?

Four years of differential equations and quantum mechanics, and now you're a glorified sandwich artist with a pivot table. That engineering degree prepared you to calculate the optimal trajectory of a submarine through the ocean—but instead you're calculating how many sandwiches fit in a display case. The universe has a twisted sense of humor when your biggest flex at work is knowing the VLOOKUP function that Barbara from accounting thinks is "basically magic." The gap between education and application is so vast you could fit the entire Standard Model in it.