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Would You Do It Again? When Passion Isn’t Enough

Updated: Oct 27, 2025

Veterinary Intelligence

Gershon Alaluf, DVM, MBA, DBA Doctoral Candidate

Is Veterinary Medicine Still Worth It? A Profession at a Crossroads

A Rising Chorus of “Is It Worth It?”

In veterinary circles, an unsettling question echoes with increasing frequency: Is this profession worth it? Across social media forums and professional networks, veterinarians and veterinary staff are voicing unprecedented levels of disillusionment. To gauge the sentiment, we analyzed over 2,500 posts from online veterinary communities. The findings are telling (see Table 1): hundreds of posts discussed whether a career in vet med is “worth it,” alongside recurring themes of high education costs, crippling debt, “toxic” work environments, thoughts of quitting, and severe burnout. The phrase “I hate this job” or expressions of regret about entering the field appear alarmingly often. One recent thread noted “There were a plethora of comments talking about how the profession isn’t worth it, and how much happier people are now that they’ve left it. Even career veterinarians were encouraging people not to pursue the field because of the debt and workload.”[1]. Clearly, a crisis of confidence has taken hold within the veterinary profession.

Table 1 – Top “Is it worth it?” Discussion Themes in Online Vet Communities (Sample of 2,553 Reddit posts, 2024-2025)


Source: Analysis of r/Veterinary, r/VetProfession and related subreddit posts.

These candid discussions expose a profession at a crossroads. Long romanticized as a “field of passion” caring for animals, veterinary medicine is now grappling with sobering realities that make many insiders question its sustainability[2]. Below, we deep-dive into the key factors driving this disillusionment – from financial pressures to workplace challenges – and what they mean for the future of veterinary medicine.

The High Cost of Entry: Education Debt vs. Income

One of the first harsh realities new veterinarians face is financial. The cost of becoming a veterinarian has skyrocketed over the past two decades. Tuition at veterinary schools often rivals that of human medical schools, but without the earning potential of an MD. In 2023, the mean educational debt for U.S. veterinary graduates was about $154,451 (for those with debt, it averaged $185,000). Meanwhile, the mean starting salary for new veterinarians was roughly $124,000[3] – a healthy income on the surface, but one often outpaced by debt obligations. In fact, the debt-to-income ratio for recent grads sits around 1.3 to 1, meaning many owe far more than their first year’s pay[4]. Approximately one-third of new vets graduate with over $200,000 in loans[5], and some exceed $300,000.

Veterinary school tuition inflation has only recently begun to plateau (aided by temporary tuition freezes and more students choosing cheaper in-state schools during the pandemic)[4]. But for those already carrying massive loans at typical interest rates, the math is daunting. It can take decades to pay off veterinary school debt, and many veterinarians are still paying off their education well into mid-career. “Do you think the schooling cost is worth it to work in veterinary medicine?” a veterinarian was asked on social media. She basically said that it would not be [worth it] if it involved accumulating over $300K in debt[6]. That frank assessment resonates with many young vets who realize that, unlike human physicians, they won’t have significantly higher salaries to offset enormous loans.

Beyond the dollars and cents, heavy debt has a profound effect on veterinarians’ life and career choices. High loan payments can delay life milestones (like buying a home or starting a family) and push veterinarians into whichever jobs pay the most rather than what aligns with their passions. In the worst cases, debt contributes to practitioners feeling “trapped” in the profession. Studies have found that veterinarians with high debt report significantly lower well-being – for instance, only 37.7% of vets carrying over $300k in loans describe themselves as “flourishing” in their careers, versus over 60% of those with no debt[7]. Financial stress can amplify burnout (discussed further below) and even exacerbate mental health struggles.

It’s no surprise, then, that some veterinarians regret their investment. As one seasoned vet lamented in an online forum, “If I had to do it over again I would not be a veterinarian… I still owe over $140k in student loans… it’s killing me and lots of others.”[8][9]. The sentiment “vet school isn’t worth it” is echoed by others encouraging would-be veterinarians to think carefully before taking on huge debt for modest returns[1].

Yet, there are glimmers of hope: the debt-to-income ratio for new graduates has been improving slightly in recent years (down from a high around 2:1 in 2018-2020 to about 1.3:1 now)[4]. This is thanks in part to rising starting salaries and efforts by some schools to control costs. For example, the mean starting salary for 2023 grads (across all practice types) rose to about $124k, up significantly in the past decade[3]. Some new DVMs also strategically minimize debt by attending in-state schools, working during breaks, or pursuing loan forgiveness programs. One millennial veterinarian reported being “happy, fulfilled and with a great quality of life” and attributes it partly to limiting her debt – “I refused to go to vet school anywhere except my state school so I didn’t accumulate hundreds of thousands… I got a bunch of interest-free loans to reduce my burden.”[10]. She also set strict boundaries at work to protect her personal time[11], illustrating that smart financial and lifestyle choices can tilt the scales toward a more sustainable career.

Action Item – Veterinary Schools & Financial Stakeholders: The burden of educational debt is a self-inflicted wound that academia and policy makers can address. Veterinary schools must confront the rising tuition problem – through budget efficiencies, increased scholarships, or advocacy for more public funding – to prevent pricing out all but the wealthiest students. They should also provide financial literacy training so students understand the return on investment (ROI) of their education. Policy makers can expand loan forgiveness programs (like the USDA’s Veterinary Medicine Loan Repayment Program) and make them tax-free. (Notably, the federal VMLRP offers up to $25,000/year toward loan repayment for vets serving in high-need areas[12], but it aided only 88 veterinarians in 2023[13] – a drop in the bucket nationally.) New legislation such as the proposed Rural Veterinary Workforce Act aims to enhance these programs by removing tax penalties[14]. Scaling such initiatives and considering broader debt relief (e.g. including veterinarians in public service loan forgiveness or incentivizing states to create vet-specific aid) could greatly improve the debt-to-income outlook and keep veterinary careers “worth it” financially.

Burnout, Mental Health, and the Emotional Toll

Financial strain is only one piece of the puzzle. Even vets who are debt-free can find themselves asking if the job is worth the emotional toll it takes. A growing body of evidence indicates a mental health crisis in the veterinary profession. High rates of burnout, compassion fatigue, anxiety, and depression have been documented in numerous surveys[15][16]. Alarmingly, veterinarians have disproportionately high suicide rates – a well-known CDC study found female vets are about 3.5 times more likely (and male vets 2.1 times more likely) to die by suicide than the general population[17]. This tragic statistic has cast a harsh light on just how stressed and overwhelmed many vets feel on a daily basis.

The factors fueling veterinary burnout are complex. The profession demands long hours, high responsibility, and frequent exposure to trauma. The CDC pointed to “demands of practice such as long work hours, work overload, and practice management responsibilities”, as well as an “ever-increasing educational debt-to-income ratio” and poor work-life balance, as unique stressors contributing to suicide risk in vet med[18]. Veterinarians often work 10-12 hour days, handle emergency cases on nights or weekends, and make life-or-death decisions under intense pressure. The emotional strain of euthanasia – a procedure vets must perform far more often than any human doctor would end a human life – can be immense. Compassion fatigue (the exhaustion from caring for sick or dying patients and absorbing clients’ grief) accumulates over time.

Moreover, a veterinarian’s day often contains not just medical challenges but intense interpersonal conflicts (more on client-related stress in the next section). The cumulative effect can be devastating. As one practitioner confessed, “Honestly this job is killing me. … I still love helping animals and people but the reality is that this isn’t enough anymore.” She described being “burned out from the increase in entitlement and vitriol from clients… burned out from hearing how vets are only in it for the money despite my paycheck definitely not reflecting that”, and concluded grimly, “If I had to do it over again I would not be a veterinarian.”[19][20] Such frank admissions of regret and despair were once rare in this caring field – now they’re increasingly commonplace.

Despite the bleak picture, there are some positive trends. Awareness and support for mental health in veterinary medicine have grown in recent years. The stigma around seeking help is slowly fading[21][22]. In a 2023 Merck Animal Health Veterinary Wellbeing Study, nearly 74% of veterinarians reported being at least somewhat satisfied with their careers, even though they tended to underestimate their peers’ satisfaction[23]. About 54% of veterinarians were deemed to be “flourishing” on a wellbeing scale – not far off from other high-skilled professions[24]. These numbers suggest that while many vets struggle, a majority still find meaning and positivity in their work. Importantly, younger veterinarians and those with heavy debt were far less likely to be thriving (e.g. only 38% of vets with >$300k loans were flourishing)[7], indicating where interventions are most needed.

The profession is actively looking at solutions to combat burnout. The same Merck study highlighted concrete action steps associated with better wellbeing: “creating a positive and healthy work culture, offering employee assistance programs (EAPs), having a social life beyond work, managing debt, and implementing self-care strategies”[25]. Many clinics are now talking openly about workload limits, mandatory time off, and peer support. Professional groups like the AVMA and VIN have launched wellness initiatives, helplines, and trainings in resilience and coping skills. Some states have even begun experimenting with mandatory lunch breaks or maximum hour regulations for vets, akin to work-hour limits placed on physician residents in human medicine, to ensure practitioners aren’t run ragged.

Ultimately, addressing veterinary burnout and mental health requires a multi-pronged approach. This includes everything from individual self-care and boundary-setting (e.g. vets learning it’s okay to say no or take a day off), to clinic-level policies (hiring relief vets to cover shifts, offering counseling benefits), to systemic changes (tackling the financial pressures and staffing shortages that contribute to overload). Later, we’ll discuss how various stakeholders – from veterinary schools to corporate employers – share responsibility in creating a more sustainable environment. First, though, let’s examine two particularly thorny aspects of that environment: corporate consolidation of veterinary practices and the challenging dynamics with clients and the public.


 
 
 

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