You stay quiet, because if you open your mouth, the frustration, the anger, maybe even the tears, will come with it. You’re constantly pissed off—at everything. The social inequalities on campus. The admin chaos. Even your students’ questionable fashion choices at graduation.

Those of us who made it through to the upper echelons of the education system, i.e., academia, have spent most of our lives following the rules and being good. 

If your inbox were a house, it would be featured on Britain’s Biggest Hoarders.  Mouldy old job alerts. A festering email from your mentor that you meant to reply to 18 months ago.

Academia runs on overwork. That’s not an individual problem; it’s a systemic one. Institutions pile on admin, expect endless teaching labour, and then somehow still demand a world-class research portfolio.

You sit down to do deep work—write a paper, prep a lecture, plan your research.

But before you know it, your fingers are on autopilot.

📩 Inbox. Refresh. Scroll. Click.

You lack boundaries around your inbox, and this is one of the top reasons that you are a flustered professor who only seems to have one mode: spread thin. You open your email inbox for a quick check—maybe just to confirm a module code, or see what time a meeting starts, fast-forward two hours, and...

How many times today have you told yourself I have to? It sounds like a small thing, but the words "I have to" make you feel powerless. They trap you in a victim mentality, reinforcing the idea that you have no control over your work or your time.

I was having a drink with a senior HR professional this weekend who wished to remain anonymous, and he had this piece of advice for university staff who are made redundant: Sign off on the sick for the rest of your contract.