April 17, 2033

A speculative future where employer associations direct career education funding

Maria watched the Hospitality chair fidget with his notes from across the conference table. She’d heard rumors about the fight brewing in his council: the theme parks wanted a whole pathway dedicated to entertainment venue operations, complete with units on parade choreography and pyrotechnic safety. The hotel bloc had apparently lost its mind over it. “We’re not using public dollars so The Parks can train their own parade managers,” one hotel VP had said in an email that got forwarded to half the state.

She was curious how he’d landed it. The Hospitality chair was the President of the Florida Restaurant Association’s education division, which made him a neutral party in a war between hotels and theme parks. His reputation might depend on what he presented today.

Dramatic deliberations at an Industry Council meeting

The Industry Leadership Council met four times a year, but this was the big one. Today, April 17, 2033, the fourteen career cluster councils will present their funding recommendations. What they approve here will determine which Career and Technical Education programs get federal Perkins dollars and state CTE appropriations. Real money. Real programs. Real kids who would or wouldn’t get trained.

Maria represented Healthcare and Human Services. She still found it strange to be here—stranger still that it worked.

She’d started as an ER nurse, back when she could still stand for twelve-hour shifts. A texting driver rear-ended her at a stoplight, and her ankle never quite recovered. She went back to school for HR, got hired back at her old hospital, and worked her way up. By 2019 she was the Director of Talent Management, which meant she spent the pandemic years trying to staff an ER with however many nurses hadn’t quit, gotten sick, or burned out.

She’d tried partnering with schools before. It never worked. The nursing programs said they wanted to expand but couldn’t. The high school health science programs were teaching outdated content. Everyone blamed everyone else. She’d given up on partnerships entirely when someone from the regional Chamber of Commerce called about something called Talent Pipeline Management.

She almost said no. Another workforce collaborative that would meet quarterly and accomplish nothing. But the Chamber person was persistent, and Maria was desperate, so she showed up.

The Chamber was right, TPM was different. The collaborative used a six-step process that actually forced employers to agree on what they needed before asking educators for anything. Five hospital systems sat in a room and had to come to consensus on job descriptions, skills standards, clinical hour requirements. It was harder than it sounded. The hospitals competed for talent, protected their turf, disagreed on everything from software platforms to whether new grads needed ACLS certification.

But eventually, they created a single set of regional healthcare talent standards and took it to the schools. And because they spoke with one voice—because they represented five thousand jobs instead of five hundred—the schools listened.

The community college redesigned its RN program. The high schools updated their health science pathways. The university expanded its accelerated BSN track.

And then something unexpected happened. The employers started changing too. The high schools needed equipment the district couldn’t afford, so the hospitals helped buy it.

It turned out that the nursing programs couldn’t expand because there weren’t enough clinical training slots. The hospitals were hoarding theirs, viewing students as liabilities instead of future employees. Once the collaborative made that visible, the hospitals opened up more slots. A hundred additional students per year could suddenly get through the pipeline.

The biggest breakthrough was the instructor shortage. When you don’t have enough nurses, you don’t have enough nursing teachers either. The collaborative convinced the hospitals to let their nurses teach part-time as adjuncts. And when it looked like teacher licensure requirements were going to get in the way, they all went up to Tallahassee. They found lawmakers were very receptive to a coalition of employers and educators that wanted the same thing.

She’d never imagined that two years later those same lawmakers would be empowering her with a vote on which high school and community college CTE programs got funded statewide.

Everything changed when Congress reauthorized Perkins in 2027.

Under previous versions of the bill, states decided how to fund CTE programs through a compliance exercise called the Comprehensive Local Needs Assessment. Every four years, school districts would fill out plans documenting labor market data, stakeholder input, and program alignment with industry needs. Employers were technically stakeholders, but they rarely showed up. Why would they? They had no real power in the process, and the meetings were deadly boring.

The new Perkins flipped it. Congress mandated that every state create industry councils—one for each of the fourteen career clusters—and that employer associations would run them. Not individual employers, but associations that could speak for entire sectors.

The requirements for employer associations were straightforward: list your members, show how many employees they represent, document the work-based learning opportunities they currently offer, and get your CEOs to sign a statement certifying they trust you to represent their workforce needs and will participate in program design.

Florida went further than the federal law required. The councils would decide which programs were eligible for Perkins funds and the state’s own CTE dollars, too.

Maria remembered the panic when it was announced. School districts were furious about losing control. Workforce boards felt sidelined. Even some employer groups were nervous—what if nobody applied? What if industry wasn’t ready?

She’d testified at a special legislative hearing on that exact question. The room was packed. Her TPM healthcare collaborative was there, along with TPM groups from other regions and industries. But she was surprised by who else showed up. The National Association of Manufacturers had a whole workforce development nonprofit she’d never heard of. The American Hotel and Lodging Association sent its VP of Education. State restaurant associations, construction groups, IT trade organizations—they all came ready with data on what they were already doing and what they could do with real authority.

The bill passed. The councils formed. And now here she was, five years later, about to vote on program recommendations that would affect thousands of students.

The Hospitality chair stood up to present. Maria leaned forward.

“As many of you know,” he began. “The council has been considering a Theme Park Event Operations pathway.”

A few people nodded. Maria saw the American Hotel and Lodging rep tense.

“However, we can’t create hyper-specialized pathways that only prepare students for one company’s training program. CTE dollars should build broad-based skills.”

He clicked to the next slide.

“So we’re not recommending a dedicated theme park event operations pathway. But, our members are facing skill shortages as they switch from their traditional fireworks shows over to drones. So we’re partnering with the Digital Technology Council to create a cross-cutting course in the Unmanned Vehicle Technology pathway. We’ll co-develop instructional units on drone shows—the technical side lives in the Digital Tech pathway, but we’ll add modules on event production, audience management, and entertainment venue operations. Students get portable skills in drone operation and event management.”

Maria smiled. That was smart. That was the kind of thing that only happened when employers had to work things out together instead of lobbying separately.

Maria had watched councils make mistakes in the early years. Employers came in thinking like employers—they wanted eight-week training programs to fill immediate openings. They didn’t understand that high school CTE pathways ran three or four years, and that students could learn sophisticated skills in that time if the program was designed right. She remembered a restaurant association rep who kept asking why students needed four years to learn front-of-house operations. “Can’t they just shadow for a semester and then work?” Someone finally had to explain that the four years weren’t just about waiting tables—students were learning hospitality management, food safety systems, business operations, customer service theory. Skills that transferred across the entire sector.

The employer associations had learned to push back on their own members. When a logistics company wanted a pathway that was really just forklift certification and warehouse management software training (skills they could teach in six weeks), the Supply Chain & Transportation Council said no. Too narrow. No career ladder. Instead, they built a broader supply chain pathway that included those skills but also procurement, inventory systems, and logistics coordination. Students who completed it could start as warehouse workers but had the foundation to move into analyst or coordinator roles.

It was harder than it looked to calibrate programs that weren’t too narrow for one company’s needs or too broad to be useful to any company. The associations were still learning. Every council meeting surfaced new tensions about what belonged in a public CTE program versus what belonged in company onboarding.

But it was working better than the old system, where schools guessed what employers wanted and employers complained that graduates weren’t prepared. At least now the arguments happened in the same room, with everyone’s cards on the table.

When Maria presented for Healthcare, she came with data. The collaborative had surveyed every hospital, clinic, nursing home, and home health agency in their region. They knew precisely how many CNAs, LPNs, RNs, and allied health professionals they’d hire next year. They knew which credentials were essential and which were nice-to-have. They knew that three rural hospitals were desperate for lab technicians and had agreed to fund a new program if the state would match their contribution.

Her council recommended funding seven programs and declining two. One of the declined programs was a medical coding pathway that had a 30% completion rate and placed fewer than ten graduates per year. The school had fought to keep it, but the data was clear. The council voted to reallocate those dollars to a diagnostic medical sonography program with a waiting list.

The meeting lasted four hours. When it ended, Maria’s phone already had an email from one of the hospitals in her collaborative. They wanted to talk about the new sonography program. How many clinical slots would they need to provide? What equipment would the college need? Could they visit the program in another region that was doing it well?

She replied while walking to her car. Yes, yes, and yes. Let’s meet next week.

This was the part nobody had expected. Once employers had real power, they started acting like real partners. They showed up. They followed through. They put skin in the game because it was their workforce and their future.

Maria sat in her car for a moment before starting the engine. She thought about the ER nurse she’d been fifteen years ago, exhausted and understaffed, wondering why the schools couldn’t just train people for the jobs that actually existed.

Now she knew. The schools could train people for those jobs. They just needed the people hiring for those jobs to be in the room, with a vote, when decisions got made.

It seemed obvious in hindsight.

Most good ideas did.

How This Could Actually Work

The story above is speculative fiction, but the policy framework is real and implementable. The current system asks employers to participate in a process they don’t control. When you give associations real authority, three things happen: they show up consistently, they take responsibility for outcomes, and they put resources behind their recommendations.

Here’s a high-level sketch of what this policy framework could look like:

Industry enthusiastically calling the plays in a bright future for career education

The Core Change: Transfer CLNA Ownership to Industry

Instead of school districts conducting the Comprehensive Local Needs Assessment, employer associations would lead it via State Sector Councils. Employers would convene educators, workforce boards, and other stakeholders—not the other way around. The industry-led councils would decide which programs of study are eligible for Perkins funds in their sector, based on industry demand and agreed upon standards for program quality.

Industry Council Structure and Membership

Each of the 14 Advance CTE career clusters would have a designated council. The membership of these councils would be business-facing associations. What are business-facing associations? They are groups that represent the talent needs of multiple employers. Today, there are several different types of organizations that play this role. Chambers of Commerce with TPM collaboratives are one example that I drew on in the story above. But industry associations also have education and workforce arms. And apprenticeship intermediaries could play this role too.

In this model, multiple associations can sit on a council for a cluster. Councils should reflect the breadth of employers in the sector, not just one dominant association. Each career cluster council is composed of all state-recognized associations in that sector, plus invited participation from educators, workforce boards, and other stakeholders.

Application Requirements for Associations

Each association applying for state recognition must provide:

Membership Footprint — List of employer members operating in the state and aggregate number of employees represented.

Work-Based Learning Capacity — Evidence of the number and type of WBL opportunities (internships, apprenticeships, clinicals, job shadows) member companies currently offer, plus commitment to expand opportunities if recognized.

Employer Endorsement — Certification signed by CEOs (or equivalent top executives) of member companies stating they trust the association to represent their workforce and training needs, and they commit to providing input on training standards and program design.

Council Governance

Decision-Making Authority — Employer associations hold the vote on funding recommendations. Other stakeholders provide input and expertise but don’t vote.

Leadership — Councils elect a chair from among the recognized associations on a rotating basis every two years.

Council Responsibilities

Program Endorsement — Identify and endorse CTE programs of study that should be eligible for Perkins and state CTE funds in their sector.

Standards Development — Recommend industry-recognized credentials, work-based learning expectations, and curriculum priorities.

Gap Identification — Flag high-demand occupations where programs are missing or undersized.

Accountability and Renewal

Four-Year Terms — State recognition lasts four years, aligned with the CLNA cycle.

Renewal Criteria — Continued recognition requires evidence of ongoing employer participation in meetings and decision-making, documented WBL opportunities provided by member employers, and positive feedback from CTE providers on council responsiveness.

Sunset Provision — Councils failing to meet minimum participation or reporting standards can lose recognition, with the state inviting new associations to apply.

We don’t have to wait

The fiction imagined a future where Congress made this change in a 2027 Perkins reauthorization. But who knows when Perkins will actually be reauthorized? And states don’t have to wait. They could pilot this structure now using state CTE funds.

Many states invest significant dollars in CTE beyond federal Perkins funds. Texas leads with over $3 billion annually in secondary CTE funding. California appropriates nearly $1 billion. These appropriations give states room to redesign how funding decisions get made.

Florida, my home state, offers a potential pilot opportunity. The state’s latest budget appropriates $467 million for CTE operations, plus another $60 million for program expansion. A pilot could start with that expansion funding. Pick three career clusters where employer associations are strong and organized, like healthcare. Give those associations authority over the expansion pool via Industry Councils, and let them run a few funding cycles. Then evaluate: Did employer associations apply to the councils? Did they make credible funding decisions? Did programs improve?

If it works—scale it. If it doesn’t, you’ve risked expansion dollars, not base funding, and you’ve learned what employer associations need to be ready for this role.

It’s going to be 2033 sooner than we think. The infrastructure for employer leadership is already being built—TPM collaboratives are running, sector partnerships are meeting, and employer associations are organizing around workforce needs. The question is whether we’ll give them the authority to match their responsibility.

This isn’t the only path forward. But, what matters is starting the conversation about who should have decision-making power in CTE, and why. I’ve laid out one model. What would work in your state? What’s already working that could be formalized? What are the risks I haven’t considered?

Let’s figure this out together. Share your ideas, push back on mine, and tell me what I’m missing.

What would you try first?

This piece was written as part of the Progress Studies 2025 Blog Building Intensive. Thank you to Mike Riggs for the excellent editing and to fellows Ariel Patton and Alexander Kustov for the feedback.