Why families with millions refuse to ask for college money

Picture this: Sarah's daughter just got into Stanford. The bill? A cool $80,000 per year, heading toward $536,000 total by graduation. Sarah's losing sleep, researching second mortgages and student loan rates.

Meanwhile, her parents sit on a $12 million estate, wondering why their kids never call.

The missing link? Sarah has never asked if they'd help pay tuition. Welcome to America's most expensive family dysfunction.

The million-dollar conversation nobody's having

This scenario plays out in wealth management offices across the country every day. Katherine Fox, a financial planner who specializes in inheritance, says she hears the same question from every affluent client: "How are we going to pay for college?"

Her response is always the same: "Have you talked to your parents?"

The answer, she says, is almost always no.

"I work with many children from wealthy families whose parents are still alive," Fox explains. "The first and most common place wealthy families provide support is through education funding. But families just... don't talk about it."

The numbers tell a staggering story. Private college costs have been rising 3.5% annually, meaning a Stanford degree could cost over $536,000 by 2039. Meanwhile, grandparents control an estimated $84 trillion in wealth—much of it earmarked for exactly this purpose.

The superfunding solution hiding in plain sight

While families stress about college costs, the financial services industry has quietly built an entire infrastructure around grandparent funding. It's called "superfunding," and it's basically a legal way to stuff five years of gifts into a 529 college savings plan at once.

A married couple can drop $180,000 into a grandchild's education account without triggering gift taxes. That money then grows tax-free for 18 years—potentially reaching over $500,000 by college time.

"It's like opening a Swiss bank account, except it's completely legal and the money is supposed to pay for college," one financial planner jokes.

The crazy part? Most families have no idea this exists.

The conversation that costs six figures

The solution to this crisis is literally a single conversation. Financial advisors suggest phrases like: "Have you thought about supporting [grandchild's name] college education?" or "Would you be interested in learning how to contribute to a 529 plan?"

That's it. No groveling, no complex financial planning—just acknowledging that grandparents might want to help.

Yet families consistently avoid this chat, even when it could save them hundreds of thousands of dollars.

The psychology runs deeper than simple awkwardness. Many adult children worry about appearing entitled or damaging their inheritance prospects. Grandparents, meanwhile, assume their kids will ask if they need help.

"It's the ultimate lose-lose," Fox notes. "Parents stress about money they don't need to worry about, while grandparents miss out on one of the most meaningful ways to support their family."

The direct payment loophole

For grandparents who do want to help, there's an even simpler solution: paying tuition directly to schools. This completely bypasses gift tax limits—you can write a $50,000 check to Stanford without it counting against your estate.

But again, this requires families to actually communicate about money.

Some families are catching on. Fox reports seeing married couples "superfund" multiple grandchildren's accounts as part of estate planning strategies. Others promise to cover tuition directly, allowing parents to focus 529 savings on room, board, and other expenses.

The most sophisticated grandparents are essentially creating family education endowments that can last generations. When one grandchild finishes college with money left over, they simply change the 529 beneficiary to the next family member.

The fake crisis continues

Despite these solutions, the fake college crisis persists. Families making mid-six figures stress about education costs while sitting on multi-million dollar estates. Financial advisors shake their heads as clients research predatory private loans instead of making one phone call.

The irony? Education is traditionally the one area where even the most hands-off wealthy families are willing to spend. Grandparents who wouldn't dream of funding a house down payment will happily write tuition checks.

"An emphasis on education is an extremely important value," Fox explains. "The cost of college and impact of student debt is well known. But families just don't connect the dots."

The most absurd part? Many of these stressed parents will eventually inherit the money they're worried about borrowing. They're literally losing sleep over accessing their own future wealth.

So Sarah keeps researching refinancing options while her parents wonder why she seems so stressed lately. The $536,000 solution sits in an awkward silence that nobody wants to break.

Sometimes the biggest barriers to wealth aren't financial—they're just plain awkward.