Are There Too Many BFA Theatre Programs in the U.S.?
(Photo: Western New Mexico University)
by Chris Peterson, OnStage Blog Founder
I’m going to ask a question that’s been quietly whispered in green rooms and late-night talkbacks for years, but rarely said out loud with any real volume:
Are there just too many BFA theatre programs in this country?
I recently saw a TikTok from educator and performer Josh Grisetti who posed this question on his account. He made some very good points and I suggest watching it below. And I think I agree with him.
Before you go and grab the pitchforks, hear me out. I love theatre. I love actors. I love training programs that take raw talent and turn it into something spectacular. But in recent years, I can’t help but notice something’s… off.
We are churning out thousands—and I mean thousands—of BFA grads every year from an ever-expanding list of universities, conservatories, and liberal arts colleges. Some are world-class. Others… well, let’s just say they’re not.
There’s a difference between training artists and giving people a four-year fantasy camp. The hard truth is: not everyone who wants to be an actor should be. And not every institution should be in the business of promising stardom—or even viability—to students who may not have the talent, work ethic, or presence to make it.
We’ve somehow created this factory line where schools hand out BFA degrees like Starbucks points, and then send these kids into the industry with a headshot, a dream, and very little preparation for the actual realities of the business. Agents ghost them. Equity auditions crush them. Day jobs drain them. And the debt? Let’s not even talk about the debt.
Is it fair? No. But the truth rarely is.
Some schools are trying. They’ve revamped their programs, brought in working professionals, added classes on self-producing and digital content creation. Others are stuck in 1987, running students through Meisner and Shakespeare with no discussion of branding, survival jobs, or mental health.
And let’s talk about casting. Walk into an open call and you’ll see a sea of young performers who all look and sound the same. Not because they’re untalented, but because their programs trained the uniqueness right out of them. Cookie-cutter training breeds cookie-cutter actors, and casting directors aren’t looking for twelve versions of the same safe choice. They want point of view. They want specificity. They want you to surprise them.
Now, here’s the part that really stings: a lot of schools are offering BFAs not because they have the faculty, the resources, or the industry pipeline to support them—but because they’re cash cows. Theatre programs are attractive to prospective students, they fill up campus stages with ticketed performances, and they bring in tuition from dreamers. And let’s be honest: many of these programs are happy to take the check, regardless of whether the training leads anywhere meaningful.
Some departments are run by passionate professors who genuinely care—but they’re operating with shoestring budgets, outdated equipment, and administrative oversight that barely understands the difference between a callback and a curtain call. They’re not equipped to compete with powerhouse programs, yet they market themselves with the same glossy brochures and promises of Broadway.
And who gets hurt in all of this? The students. The ones who trust that the word “BFA” automatically means “ready.” The ones who don’t know that not all degrees are created equal.
But here’s the other side of the coin: this may be a bubble that’s already beginning to burst. All over the country, we’re seeing theatre departments being downsized, defunded, or eliminated altogether. Programs that were once vibrant are being axed overnight under the banner of “cost-saving.” Some of those closures are heartbreaking. Others, if we’re being honest, might be the market correcting itself.
Because maybe it is time to rethink how many BFAs the industry can reasonably absorb. Maybe this painful shake-up is the beginning of a new, more sustainable phase—one that prioritizes quality over quantity. One that demands schools prove the value of their program before enrolling another class of eager freshmen chasing a Broadway dream.
So maybe it’s time for a little self-audit. Maybe not every college needs a BFA program. Maybe some students would be better served by a BA with more flexibility, more breadth, and less pressure. Maybe we stop measuring a program’s success by the number of Broadway debuts, and start looking at how it nurtures artistry, resilience, and honest self-assessment.
Because wanting it really badly isn’t enough. Some of the most passionate people I know just weren’t meant to act professionally—and that’s okay. That doesn’t mean they failed. It just means their path is different.
But the schools? They should know better. And if they don’t, maybe we should start asking why.