Where are the adults in the room?: The concocted mental health crisis in our universities

When did universities become the devouring mother stifling her children with safety? Felice Basbøll laments the rise in student-led learning.

You would be hard-pressed to argue that university students today are in a disadvantaged position — on the contrary. A university degree is still one of the best predictors of future individual prosperity, and you don’t have to look far to find people in much greater need of assistance. The issues that came with the isolation and loneliness caused by the pandemic lockdowns should be taken seriously. But even in this area, it would be a stretch to suggest that students suffered more than other groups; I don’t think any student would have preferred a spot in a care home. Despite these observations, we are led to believe that there is an unprecedented mental health crisis on university campuses largely caused by a lack of focus on student wellbeing. 

According to a 2021 study, as much as 37% of first-year students showed symptoms of depression, and 39% showed symptoms of anxiety. These studies invariably show that university students score lower in general self-reported life satisfaction than the general population. This is leading to a wide range of interventions but a dissatisfied student population is neither new, unusual nor any cause for concern. Being anxious, socially inept, self-centred, confused or any combination of these ordinary afflictions is a natural part of being young. Yet, we pretend that a student’s self-reported feelings, that indulgent “lived experience”, somehow accurately reflects the state of student life as a whole. 

Because of the overattentive, overpopulated admin teams at universities, students are bombarded with surveys throughout the year assessing everything from the price of cafeteria food to teaching quality and mental well-being. But while a university course can and should be somewhat malleable and open to improvement, it is ridiculous to assume that undergraduate students are at all equipped to evaluate them. When responding to surveys, students are impacted by a range of motivations, most of which concern spending the least amount of time possible studying — who ever signed up for more work? Whether that is because it leaves more time for partying or for a part-time job to help cover ridiculous accommodation costs is beside the point. We, by definition as students, have no clue about how or what to teach, that is why we’re here in the first place. We are self-centred enough as it is, there is really no need to encourage it by giving us this collective evaluative opportunity, and even worse, listening to us. 

But that is exactly what professors and university administrators are doing — when not on strike. As a result, university curriculums are increasingly dumbed down to fit the needs of a group largely comprised of privileged brats suffering from bad time management skills and a few too many beers. Students are no longer expected to learn to deal with challenging material and a heavy workload because it is too much pressure. Instead, exams are being cancelled or amended to accommodate our fragile dispositions and reading lists are shortened and plastered with increasingly ridiculous trigger warnings to promote emotional stability. This is nothing more than an abdication of responsibility on the part of universities disguised as forward-thinking care. 

It is hard to think of an individual more privileged than the average university student today. The fact that we are even able to get our knickers in a twist about academic pressure and bad test scores is a testament to the comfortable environment that surrounds us. Contrary to the picture painted by the mainstream media, most of us poor university students are fine, and no one should be taking our moping as gospel. We have been given an incredible opportunity to grow, take on hardship under controlled conditions and try to make a mark on the world while we are not yet weighed down by financial and family obligations. But we reserve the right to moan and not be taken seriously!

Youth is famously wasted on the young, as a fellow-Trinity alumnus once said. Not knowing anything else, we fail to appreciate the freedom and opportunity we are granted. And to some extent, it is natural for young people to complain about the world and the way it treats us. We are, after all, in that annoying stage of life where we take on more personal responsibility and are constantly trying to prove ourselves, but still not quite respected because we haven’t yet earned our stripes. 

What has suddenly changed is that reasonable adults are taking us seriously, much to the detriment of educational and personal standards. It seems that the older generation has collectively forgotten that the acceptable response to the plight of the young is to shake your head and condescendingly scoff something like: “you’ll see when you’re older.” Not too long ago, that was just the way things were. Growing up, I spent countless hours lamenting the fact I didn’t get the respect from adults that my inflated sense of self thought I deserved. It is ironic that I now must beg for a bit more patronisation on behalf of my generation. We need to be ignored again. 

Felice Basbøll is studying history and political science at Trinity College Dublin.