With the start of classes this fall, it’s become increasingly clear that college students find themselves caught in a perfect storm of social pressures, political upheaval, and economic uncertainty, all conspiring to transform the college experience from a time of intellectual growth and self-discovery into a crucible of anxiety and self-doubt. This transformation, while affecting learners across the board, has cast a particularly heavy shadow over those already grappling with systemic inequities and material difficulties. Indeed, the modern university campus, with its manicured lawns and ivy-covered buildings, has become a battleground where students wage war not just against challenging curricula, but against stress and the ever-present specter of failure.
Gone are the days when a solid academic performance and a modicum of extracurricular involvement were sufficient to secure a bright future. In their place, learners increasingly feel expected to excel in every conceivable arena, from maintaining a stellar GPA to cultivating a curated social media presence, all while navigating the intimidating waters of an increasingly competitive job market. This pressure cooker environment disproportionately affects students from under-resources schools, who may lack the financial and social capital to keep pace with their more privileged peers.
This pursuit of perfection is fueled, in no small part, by the ubiquitous presence of social media in students’ lives. Platforms like Instagram and LinkedIn have been transformed from mere communication tools into virtual stages where young people feel compelled to perform their best selves 24/7. Every achievement, no matter how minor, must be broadcast to the world, while moments of vulnerability or failure are carefully hidden from view. This constant comparison to one’s peers, or rather, to carefully scripted versions of their peers, has created a toxic environment where learners feel they can never measure up, no matter how much they achieve.[i] For those already struggling with issues of belonging or imposter syndrome, this digital landscape can exacerbate feelings of inadequacy and alienation.
Adding fuel to this fire is the drumbeat of advertising, which bombards students with messages that they are perpetually lacking. Whether it’s the latest smartphone, the trendiest fashion, or the most exclusive internship, there’s always something more to be acquired, achieved, or experienced. This relentless messaging taps into deep-seated insecurities, sending the message that worth is inextricably tied to possessions, appearance, and accomplishments.[ii] The insidious nature of this consumerist culture is particularly damaging to students of lower socioeconomic status. The pressure to maintain a perfect façade extends beyond material possessions and academic achievements. Students today feel an overwhelming need to present themselves as socially successful, with a robust network of friends and a calendar brimming with exciting events. The fear of missing out (FOMO, in the parlance of our times) has become a constant companion, driving learners to overextend themselves socially even as they struggle to keep up with their academic commitments. This social pressure can be especially challenging for the introverted, those with social anxiety, or anyone with an identity that may not align with the dominant social norms of campus life.
Amidst this maelstrom of pressures, educators find themselves facing an uphill battle to maintain student engagement. The traditional model of higher education, with its emphasis on lectures, reading assignments, and examinations, seems increasingly out of step with a generation raised on instant communication and constant stimulation. Professors report declining class attendance and participation, as learners struggle to see the relevance of their coursework, or simply find themselves too overwhelmed by other commitments to fully engage with their studies.[iii] This disengagement is not merely a matter of student apathy or short attention spans, as some critics might suggest, but a symptom of a deeper disconnect in the relationship of higher education to students’ overall lives inside and outside of school.
Perhaps most alarming is the toll this high-pressure environment is exacting on mental health. Anxiety and depression rates among college students have skyrocketed in recent years, with many institutions reporting that their counseling centers are overwhelmed by the demand for services. The COVID-19 pandemic exacerbated these issues, introducing new stressors and uncertainties into students’ lives while simultaneously cutting them off from many of their usual support systems.[iv] While the pandemic itself is no longer the same level of threat, the long-term effects of this mental health crisis are yet to be fully understood –– as it continues to cast a shadow over an entire generation of students.
Underlying many of these issues lies the sobering reality of economic insecurity, another lingering aftereffect of the pandemic. Often acquiring mountains of debt, many students harbor doubts about whether their degrees will translate into stable, well-paying jobs in an increasingly volatile job market. This economic anxiety serves as a constant backdrop to their college experience, adding an extra layer of pressure to every decision and achievement.[v] For learners with limited financial resources or those supporting themselves through school, this financial stress is hardly an abstract worry.
While these issues affect students across the board, it would be remiss to ignore the fact that certain demographics bear a disproportionate share of the burden. Working students, who must balance their studies with the demands of part-time or even full-time employment, often find themselves struggling to keep up with their more financially secure peers. First Gen students, sometimes lacking the familial knowledge and support systems that many of their classmates take for granted, must navigate the complexities of higher education largely on their own. These students often face a steep learning curve not just in terms of academics, but in understanding the unwritten rules and cultural norms of college life.
Historically minoritized students face additional challenges, contending not only with the universal pressures of college life but also with systemic biases and microaggressions that can make the campus environment feel unwelcoming or even hostile. From navigating predominantly white spaces to dealing with culturally insensitive curricula, these learners must expend significant emotional and mental energy simply to feel welcomed on campuses. Those with disabilities similarly find themselves fighting an uphill battle for accommodations and understanding, all while trying to keep pace with other learners.[vi] The additional labor required to advocate for their needs and educate others about their experiences can be exhausting, detracting from their ability to fully engage with their studies and campus life.
The intersection of these various identities and challenges creates a complex tapestry of disadvantage, with some learners facing multiple, compounding barriers to success. A working, first-generation student from a minoritized background, for instance, must overcome a veritable gauntlet of obstacles on their path to a degree. These intersecting identities and challenges create a unique set of pressures and stressors that can be difficult for others to fully comprehend, leading to feelings of isolation and misunderstanding.
It’s crucial to note that while widespread student distress has been widely reported and analyzed in the press, the sensationalized nature of much of this coverage has, paradoxically, often served to further stigmatize and alienate the very students it purports to help. Headlines screaming about the “mental health crisis on campus” or the “epidemic of student anxiety” may raise awareness, but they also risk normalizing these struggles to the point where they’re seen as an inevitable part of the college experience rather than as systemic issues that need to be addressed.[vii] This sensationalism can also lead to a kind of compassion fatigue, where the public becomes desensitized to the very real struggles faced by students.
More troubling still is the way in which this narrative of struggle and stress has been weaponized against the college-age population. Rather than prompting a serious examination of the societal and institutional factors contributing to student distress, it has too often been used to paint an entire generation as fragile, entitled, or unprepared for the “real world.” This dismissive attitude not only minimizes the very real challenges facing today’s students but also serves to discourage them from seeking help or advocating for change. It’s a form of gaslighting that invalidates students’ experiences and places the blame for systemic issues squarely on their shoulders.
This tendency to blame media or the habits of young people for the challenges facing college students can obscure the very real material difficulties and various forms of inequity, both seen and unseen, that underlie many of these issues. While it’s true that social media and changing cultural norms play a role in shaping students’ experiences, focusing solely on these factors ignores the broader economic and social realities that create barriers to success for many students. Issues like rising tuition costs, stagnant wages, and persistent racial and socioeconomic disparities in educational outcomes cannot be addressed simply by encouraging s to spend less time on their phones or to develop more “grit.”
Grappling with these complex and interconnected issues, it’s clear that there are no easy solutions. Addressing the structural inequities and systemic biases that pervade higher education will require a concerted effort from institutions, policymakers, and society at large. It will demand a fundamental reimagining of what a college education should look like in the 21st century, and how schools can create learning environments that foster intellectual growth and personal development without sacrificing students’ mental health and well-being. This may involve rethinking everything from admissions processes to curriculum design to the way we measure and reward academic success.
In the meantime, however, it’s important not lose sight of the human cost of our current system. Behind every statistic about rising anxiety rates or declining student engagement are real young people — bright, ambitious, and full of potential — who are struggling under the weight of expectations and pressures that no previous generation has had to bear. In the search for long-term solutions, it remains crucial to also find ways to support and empower these learners, to help them navigate the choppy waters of higher education without losing sight of their own worth and potential. This support must go beyond platitudes or token gestures –– to address the root causes of student stress with meaningful resources and accommodations.
[i] Jean Twenge, iGen: Why Today’s Super-Connected Kids Are Growing Up Less Rebellious, More Tolerant, Less Happy–and Completely Unprepared for Adulthood–and What That Means for the Rest of Us (New York: Atria Books, 2017).
[ii] Tim Wu, The Attention Merchants: The Epic Scramble to Get Inside Our Heads (New York: Knopf, 2016).
[iii] Daniel F. Chambliss and Christopher G. Takacs, How College Works (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2014).
[iv] Sarah Ketchen Lipson, et al., “Trends in college student mental health and help-seeking by race/ethnicity: Findings from the national healthy minds study, 2013–2021,” Journal of Affective Disorders 306 (2022): 138-147, https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/35307411/
[v] Arne L. Kalleberg, Precarious Lives: Job Insecurity and Well-Being in Rich Democracies (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2018).
[vi] Anthony Abraham Jack, The Privileged Poor: How Elite Colleges Are Failing Disadvantaged Students (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2019).
[vii] Zara Abrams, “Student Mental Health is in Crisis: Campuses Rethink Their Approach,”American Psychological Association 53, no. 7 (Oct. 1, 2022, https://www.apa.org/monitor/2022/10/mental-health-campus-care