For many college students, course difficulty doesn’t always reflect effort or intelligence. An English major might breeze through novels but panic during a chemistry midterm. A biology student may ace molecular pathways but dread every writing assignment. These struggles aren’t signs of inadequacy—they reflect the mental pivot students must make between disciplines. What seems “hard” is often just unfamiliar.
The concept of academic difficulty is deeply cultural. A student raised in a household that emphasized reading, debate, and expression might thrive in literature or philosophy but feel completely lost in a physics lab. Conversely, a computer science major who can debug algorithms with ease might avoid classes requiring persuasive essays or verbal presentations, fearing they lack the necessary language to perform effectively.
These are not gaps in intelligence—they are gaps in academic fluency. Unfortunately, few colleges actively teach students how to shift their cognitive habits between disciplines. Success often comes not from being naturally gifted, but from learning how to adapt.
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Seeking Help—Silently and Online
Colleges do provide resources: writing centers, office hours, peer tutoring, and academic workshops. Yet many students hesitate to use them. First-generation students frequently feel uncertain about how to ask for help or even whether it’s acceptable to do so. Some aren’t aware these resources exist until it’s too late in the semester.
In response, students have created their own ecosystems of informal academic help. Reddit forums, Discord study groups, and short-form lessons on platforms like TikTok have become common ways to navigate complex assignments. Some students, feeling overwhelmed or unsure where to start, turn to external websites—or, in moments of pressure, even pay for a college essay writing service to meet deadlines. Others use platforms such as MyAssignmentHelp, which offer writing assistance through sample work and explanations of academic tasks. While these resources can be helpful, they must be used with caution and a clear understanding of academic integrity.
Colleges may not be able to prevent students from seeking help outside the classroom, but they can equip them to make better choices. By openly addressing academic integrity and teaching students how to distinguish between helpful and harmful resources, institutions can foster a healthier culture surrounding academic support.
“The students most at risk are often the ones least equipped to navigate unspoken norms of help-seeking in academia,” writes Sara Goldrick-Rab in Paying the Price: College Costs, Financial Aid, and the Betrayal of the American Dream, a study of college access and student success.
Academic Integrity Meets Academic Desperation
Engineering and science students often report spending hours on problem sets. Collaboration is common, but sometimes crosses unclear lines between legitimate group work and unauthorized sharing. Humanities students face a distinct challenge: interpreting complex texts or constructing nuanced arguments, often with limited guidance on how to structure their ideas. Both environments can be overwhelming.
Deadlines across multiple subjects stack up quickly. Students often try to manage everything until the pressure pushes them toward poor decisions—such as plagiarism, using shortcut services, or submitting subpar work. Many of these actions stem not from laziness, but from confusion and exhaustion.
Educational psychologist Linda Nilson reminds us in Teaching at Its Best: A Research-Based Resource for College Instructors that “We often assume students know how to learn and how to study, but this is rarely true. Learning how to learn is, itself, a learned skill.”
Early academic guidance—before students fall behind—can prevent these situations.
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Teaching Transparency as a Tool
Rather than treating academic support as something shameful, colleges should normalize help-seeking from the start. Brief modules on how to ask for help, how to approach a professor, or how to form study groups could be included in orientation or first-year seminars. Workshops can clarify what collaboration means in different classes and what constitutes academic misconduct.
This kind of transparency can ease student anxiety and help them make better decisions under stress. As ethicist Michael Sandel notes in The Tyranny of Merit: What’s Become of the Common Good?: “Meritocracy makes us forget our luck. Those who succeed often overlook the invisible scaffolding behind their climb.”
Discipline-Specific Challenges Require Discipline-Specific Support
Feedback mechanisms vary by subject. STEM students often don’t realize they’re falling behind until an exam. Humanities students may receive vague or subjective feedback, unsure how to translate a comment like “needs deeper analysis” into concrete revision steps.
Still, students find ways to succeed. Many rely on peer-created support networks: shared notes, late-night Zoom calls, and collaborative test prep. Some build trust with professors who model their thinking process, rather than just providing correct answers. Others attend writing workshops or form unofficial writing groups.
But these efforts are often unsystematic. One student in a campus op-ed put it plainly: “Needing help doesn’t mean I’m cheating. It means I’m trying.”
The General Education Divide
Ironically, general education courses often cause the greatest friction. STEM students may be able to delay taking required writing or history courses. Humanities majors often dread math or statistics. The core issue is not fear, but a lack of comfort with a new academic language.
When students aren’t taught how to navigate a different disciplinary mindset, they retreat. A political science major may avoid that algebra requirement until senior year, not because they can’t do math, but because they don’t know where to start. If instructors offered learning strategies in conjunction with content delivery, success rates might improve.
Unfortunately, many general education courses assume students arrive already fluent in the cognitive patterns each subject demands.
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Teaching the “How,” Not Just the “What”
Every subject assumes a set of unspoken mental habits. Philosophy rewards slow, deliberate reading. Physics values quick pattern recognition. Writing-intensive classes require logical structure and rhetorical clarity.
But many students never learn these habits. They memorize content instead of interpreting it. They apply formulas without understanding their origins. To bridge this gap, professors must go beyond delivering polished lectures. Demonstrating mistakes, modeling thinking aloud, or explaining how they arrived at an answer can be far more instructive than presenting only final outcomes.
Similarly, assigning a research paper without teaching how to structure a claim or frame a thesis sets students up for failure, especially those who didn’t learn this in high school.
Ethical Shortcuts and Unethical Risks
As stress builds, some students consider academic shortcuts. Unfortunately, the internet is full of both legitimate and dubious solutions. Faculty often assume students can tell the difference, but they can’t always.
Resources such as writing centers, peer review sessions, and instructor feedback are ethical and school-supported options. Platforms that guarantee results or sell completed assignments, on the other hand, undermine learning.
Transparency matters. Students need space to ask, “Is this okay to use?” without fear of punishment. Clear guidance about ethical assistance—especially in online environments—can help students make better choices.
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Balancing Depth and Breadth
The most meaningful academic growth often comes from discomfort. A business major who takes a poetry class may discover nuance in language that improves their branding skills. A music major who conquers calculus may become more confident in interpreting data or managing logistics.
This kind of growth happens when students are allowed to struggle—supported, but not shielded. Colleges must promote interdisciplinary thinking not only by requiring diverse courses, but also by preparing students to shift their learning strategies across fields.
Conclusion: Toward a Smarter Academic Culture
No college subject is inherently harder than another. Difficulty depends on familiarity, background, teaching style, and the availability of help. The students who thrive aren’t just talented—they’re resourceful. And resourcefulness, like writing or coding, can be taught.
By encouraging students to seek support without shame, offering transparency around expectations, and helping them adapt across disciplines, colleges can foster a deeper, more ethical academic culture—one that values how students learn, not just what they know.
Image by Tohamina on Adobe Stock; Asset ID#: 1403018919
