Why Students Can’t Simply “Choose” Engagement

In recent years campuses everywhere have been reporting alarming levels of absenteeism and underperformance. It’s certainly something I hear a lot from colleagues at UC Irvine, many of whom are left scratching their heads about exact causes. And of course, it’s typical to lay the blame on students rather than anything relating to instruction or the university itself. Affect theory can help in finding better answers.

Let’s start with how faculty talk about engagement. The typical focus is nearly always on learners themselves. Students choose to scroll or skip class. They take shortcuts or use AI. Of course these behaviors frustrate educators. But they are little more than symptoms of what’s really going on. Most learners have studied hard to get into college and borrow heavily to remain there. The vast majority want to do the work, care about the material, and value courses. But they still can’t bring themselves to fully function. They may show up, take notes, say the right things, and yet still feel nothing. That is not simply a decision. It ‘s a mental state. And often a defensive one.

Classrooms operate as affective machines, creating a vast array of feelings and physical reactions in students. While many educators blame educational problems on motivation or attention lapses, they in fact stem from the systemic creation of negative affect by policiesof the kind critiqued in these pages.  Meritocratic institutions produce conditions of “affective scarcity,” in which success, recognition, and belonging are limited resources to be fought for individually rather than collectively.   Learners internalize beliefs that their struggles stem from personal deficits and nothing else. The resulting shame is so normalized that failures become quietly accepted, making studentsagents of their own oppression. They focus on improving themselves, measuring their success through performance metrics, and aligningwith institutional standards. Today’s pervasive culture of mistrust adds to the degradation of students’ learning experiences. Learners are monitored by LMSs tracking online behavior, exam proctoring software, and AI-detection algorithms presuming dishonesty.

Busy faculty can miss these subtleties because they read behavior as a transparent matter. They suspect that students procrastinate because they don’t care. Missing class means they must be lazy. An anxious appearance signals fragility.  AI use is simply cheating. While these interpretations may make a certain kind of sense, they can misinterpret the learner’s internal experience. Students don’t simply react in the moment. Rather they anticipate the classroom, act on their fears, prepare for potential outcomes. Their bodies react when instruction generates anxiety and defensive reactions, often in unconscious ways.

Freud called education an “impossible profession.” In saying this, he didn’t mean that that education is ineffective. Freud was describing the often unknown and uncontrollable outcomes of learning encounters, many of which aren’t fully transparent to students themselves. This means that faculty can’t always know how students will react to their teaching.[i]  Learners don’t begin courses as blank slates. They arrive with minds preloaded with prior experiences of judgment.

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Present but Absent: The Affective Disconnect

What kind of problem stays visible for years and still has no name? The sorting machinery of merit accounts for part of it, and the refusals that machinery provokes account for more. Something still lingers in a room after both have finished explaining themselves. This chapter looks at the roots of the missing vocabulary,  the background issues beneath the disconnect. Faculty notice it first as an odd kind of restlessness. Students seem distracted, but not in typical ways. They’re present in the room but emotionally absent. There’s an undercurrent in the group dynamic, which lingers despite best efforts. When asked about their feelings, students report being stressed or preoccupied, but nothing quite describes what’s going on.

At issue is something more fundamental in the culture of higher education. On one level, it comes from a mismatch between who students are and the character of the institutions they inhabit. Gone are days of carefree learners confident that college was a ticket to a better life. Today’s student population finds itself on contested terrain, while often juggling a myriad of responsibilities in addition to studies, facing a future in which technological change and attitudes towards higher education itself present novel uncertainties.[i]  The National Institutes of Health has further documented how intersecting factors of financial insecurity,  political turbulence, and doubts about college are wreaking havoc on student mental health [ii] Continue reading “Present but Absent: The Affective Disconnect”