I went to MIT, and graduated in 1992. A well-known saying at MIT is "work hard, play hard" -- meaning that you're going to work like crazy to do well in class,

I went to MIT, and graduated in 1992. A well-known saying at MIT is "work hard, play hard" -- meaning that you're going to work like crazy to do well in class, and then when it comes to extracurriculars and sports, you're also going to work like crazy to win. The positive side is that in such an atmosphere, you're always pushing yourself to the limits. You can learn a great deal, and you can accomplish a great deal. The negative side is that it creates unhealthy expectations -- not necessarily from the MIT administration, but from the students themselves. If you're not acing your classes and running an extracurricular and also playing an instrument in your spare time and doing top-class research, then you're obviously a loser. If you're sleeping eight hours a night, then you're obviously a loser. Anyone who goes to MIT (or another top-ranked university) is used to being the top student, or one of a handful, to whom everyone points and says, "Wow, they're amazing." And so to go from always being at the top to feeling like you need superhuman abilities just to avoid being classified as a loser, is very tough. I'm one of those students who consistently failed math tests during freshman year. I remember very well calling my parents, crying on the phone. This was the first time I had failed anything, and to fail a math test of all things was just unheard of. But then I went to the math department's tutoring room, and found that a huge number of other students, all of whom had been star performers in high school, had also failed. And suddenly I realized that MIT was hard for everyone, and that we were in a different place nowadays. I was also fortunate to work on the student newspaper, where people talked openly about not necessarily getting terrific grades, or switching majors so that they could manage to graduate. Or just changing priorities, such that getting fantastic grades wasn't the be-all and end-all of being an MIT student. I ended up with a B average, helped in no small part by the humanities courses that I took. And you know what? I turned out OK, with a good career. It's so, so easy for MIT students to be sucked into thinking that they're either superhuman overachievers or pathetic losers, and that their careers are over at the age of 19 because they flunked a course. For years, MIT has said that they worry about the students who feel this way, because some of them might end up hurting themselves or even taking their own lives. But it's a tough balancing act to pull off. Because what's negative for some people, and causes so much trauma and damage to them, is a positive motivator for many others. I'd like for MIT to start giving students a broader view of life. You don't have to be an amazing student to have a good career, family, or life. You can be a happy person and not be a billionaire startup founder. And you can even change your major to something less difficult, if it means being happier. Really, when you leave college, you're just 21 years old. You have a long, long time to learn more things and change. And I hate to say it, but some of the people who were such stellar superhuman students ended up being the sorts of people you don't necessarily want to hang out with. Given the choice between being a nice person who enjoys life, and one who does groundbreaking research, I'd go for the former. I'm fairly sure that MIT doesn't make that sound like a reasonable, sensible, attainable, or even desirable option. Which is a shame.